My Derailment
by insaneartist
Summary: "When the truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within you dies, I'll use a lighter so you can see what isn't there, we'll swing at air; an exit to escape is all there is left to find." Sometimes horror and love are the same thing. Reviews welcome.
1. Moving In

**Extremely Important Author's Note

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**

This story is dark. It's more than dark, it's morbid. Inside the cyber pages of my fanfic are several main subjects that cause uneasiness in society: rape, instability, death, and undeniable fear. This is the story of a girl who goes through truly terrible things, but it is also a story of a girl who overcomes such horrible situations and refuses to give up. There is an alternate ending that segues into an equally dark sequel. However, the first ending, the official ending, is anything but morbid.

As a person who wishes to pursue writing as more than just a hobby and more than just fan fiction, I do my best to write real emotion. I've read many original fiction and fan fiction stories that have rape as the main theme, but do not properly portray rape. Many of said works often have the main character become immediately fine after the fact. That is not what rape does to someone. Rape is terrible, and it has the potential to do more than just hurt one physically. Rape has the potential to tear down mental walls and create the epitome of discomfort and paranoia physically and mentally. I have done my best to have the main character in my story, Neema, portray a true rape victim.

Neema suffers through rape and mind games, but she also finds love and creates a better person out of herself. This is a morbid story, but it is also a story that ends with much light. You have been warned.

Just so it is known, I do not take personal offense to any review that is pointed on my story. I understand that this fan fiction is morbid, therefore I expect there to be several reviews about people who are disgusted with what I have written, but I also hope for constructive criticism. Feel free to express your opinion on this work, whether it be in favor of it, in complete disgust for it, or whether you are telling me a more in depth profile/experience of a rape victim, or you are telling me that I have an unstable character that does not fit. I do respond to reviews. Without reviews my story is, essentially, boring. I love to respond to reviews. Feel free to message me or post a question/comment in a review.

That is the end of my spiel, but again, you have been warned.

(I have no idea how to put this author's note before the first chapter without having to replace every chapter and moving them all one down, so I am just placing this at the top of the first chapter.)

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**My Derailment**

**Chapter One: Moving In

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**

**A/N: **I know that this is all in the 90's, and that in the magical world muggle technologies aren't used, but I'm going to make references and use of muggle technologies and literature anyway.

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Draco Malfoy isn't new to me; I've been a student at Hogwarts since I was eleven, I know who he is and how he behaves. We've had classes together all five years of our education, soon to be six. However, I've never lived next door to him, well, until now. My father has recently received a promotion at the company he works at, and now we're very well off. We've always been in the category of upper middle class, then we slowly moved up to being considered rich, but because of my father's recent accomplishment, we're now wealthy. This being so, he decided to move us to a much nicer area. That is why we live next door to the Malfoy's; well, I suppose we aren't _next_-door neighbors, but his mansion is the closest mansion to ours.

I slipped into my deep blue, almost purple, one shoulder dress. It ended at about the length of my knee, and slightly hugged my curves, just enough to bring attention to my figure. From the majority of my neck, and from the left arm, the sleeveless side, came a long pattern of feathers created by sequins and silver stitching.

"Neemie, are you almost ready?" My dad called from a few doors down.

"Yeah, dad, I just need to find my black shoes." I literally just put all of my things away yesterday, how can I have lost _anything_ so quickly? Just as I was about to give up on my search, I stumbled over something. I turned my head to look at what I just stumbled over and saw my three-inch heels. I smiled, grabbed them, and then slipped them on.

My father knocked on my door three times before opening it, "Neemie are you—wow."

"What?" I ran over to my mirror to see if I was wearing something totally inappropriate, or if something was on backwards. I straightened my hair and put it up in a loose, but elegant bun; my make-up wasn't smeared, if I may say so myself, it looked pretty good. For the most part, my make-up looked natural, as if my face was actually flawless and bright. My dark brown eyeliner complimented my deep, chestnut brown eyes, my deep golden eye shadow looked nice against my skin, and flattered my eye color, and my sheer, pink lip-gloss gave my lips the right amount of shine and moisture.

"Don't worry, Neemie, you look great. I…I just didn't realize that you aren't ten anymore." We both awkwardly laughed for a minute before my mother walked into my room.

"Oh Neema!" My mother squealed, "You look so nice! I forgot you had that dress!"

I smiled and walked towards them, "Thanks, is Drea ready?"

"I think so…." My mother whispered, "Drea!"

Thirty seconds later, Drea jogged by us, "What's the hold up?" She smiled, "Nice shoes, Neemers."

I sighed, rolled my eyes, and smiled. We all started to walk out of my room as I said, "Please don't call me that when we're any where else but here."

Drea laughed, "If you insist—"

"I insist."

Before Drea could reply to me, my father hooked arms with my mother and me. I then proceed to hook my free arm with Drea's left arm. Drea and I took a deep breath and closed our eyes tightly just before our father apperated us to the foyer in the Malfoy Manor. My mother and father landed standing straight, calm, and happily, where as my sister and I stumbled around a bit. "We couldn't just _walk_ over?" Drea coughed.

I laughed and stuck my arms out before I crashed into a wall; I ended up leaning against the cold stonewall for support. "Of course not. That'd be much too easy."

My mother rolled her eyes as my father told us, "If you girls could take a little less time in getting ready, we would have had time to _just walk over_."

"I see no reason in that." Drea retorted while regaining her balance. I walked over to her and my parents while she continued her thought, "If we took less time in getting ready, we wouldn't look nearly as nice. You should be happy you have two beautiful daughters." I smirked and gave her a low five while three familiar, pale faces entered the room.

Lucius shook hands with my father and greeted us with a warm welcome. "It's been quite a while since I've seen you two girls last." He smiled while eying us, but not in a sexual way. He eyed us in a way that showed he was remembering my sister and I as small children.

Narcissa smiled and asked my mother a few questions about our new mansion; how it looked in the inside, how everything functioned, if we liked it there, etc… Before things became too awkward, Lucius looked at us, gave us a small smile, and put his hands together in front of his chest, as if he was going to clap, but decided not to at the last minute. "I hope you four are hungry, we've had a delicious meal prepared for this evening."

Drea's eyes sparkled with happiness. "I'm _starving_. I was too lazy too unpack yesterday, so I spent the majority of today putting all of my things away."

We all started to walk to the dinning room before Narcissa asked me how my unpacking went. "It went well, I can't remember where I put anything," I giggled, "But all of my belongs are put away."

Narcissa smiled a bit and opened the door to the dining room. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

They've replaced their usually large table with a smaller one, just large enough for the seven of us to be seated comfortably. Lucius sat at one head of the table, with Narcissa to his right, while my father sat at the other head, with my mother at his right. My older sister, Drea, sat across from Narcissa, leaving me with no choice but to sit across from Draco. Well, I suppose I could have sat across from my mother, but I couldn't help but sit across from Draco. I won't lie, I think he's very attractive; I've always been a sucker for blondes, any shade of blonde. He has become quite a bit paler since the last term of our fifth year, but he's still cute regardless of such. I've always found his cold, grey eyes intriguing. Every time I look into them I wonder what they've seen, the things he wished he didn't see, the things he hopes to one day see.

As the first course appeared on our plates, I couldn't help but to sneak glances up at Draco. I looked at his lips a few times and I couldn't help but want to kiss him, whether that was out of curiosity or lust, I wasn't entirely sure; perhaps it was a combination of the two. We occasionally made eye contact and flashed each other small, but polite smiles, but it still felt too awkward to talk; that being so, I turned my attention to my sister. After I swallowed the last sip of water from my cup, I turned my heads toward Drea and put my left arm to the side of her right one. "Am I darker than you?"

"Yes," she sighed, "you've _always_ been darker than me."

"Not true, last summer you tanned until you were as dark as midnight. I lost you every night until you smiled."

We both giggled, Drea slightly choked on her water. Holding back a laugh, Drea said, "Little Miss Olive, you've always envied my fair skin."

"Oh, you're right about that." I smiled and rolled my eyes. "How I wish I share a shade with garlic."

Drea choked again on her water, "Shut up!" She laughed and bit her bottom lip a bit to keep from laughing loudly. Lucius and our father ignored us, while our mothers engaged in conversation, but Draco quietly laughed after eying us. We continued our meal with little jokes in between sips of water.

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The dinner went well, it was rather quiet between Drea, Draco and I, but it still was pleasant enough. Drea received most of the attention, probably because everyone at the table was in Slytherin, except for me. I am a Gryffindor, and I'm proud of that; my brother, Gaston, was a Ravenclaw, and he loved it. He loved being considered smart – he is, but the title of Ravenclaw and a pair of glasses automatically makes you a genius in the eyes of all Hogwarts students.

At the present moment, I am in the kitchen, making myself a turkey sandwich. Just as I spread a little bit of mayonnaise on a slice of bread, someone knocked his or her hand against the large island in the middle of the kitchen. I jumped up a bit from the shock of the quiet turning into a loud, abrupt noise. I turned a bit to see who it was; I should have guessed it, "Where's your father?"

"Why?" I asked, eying Draco up and down while crossing my arms against my chest.

"My father wants to talk to him. Now, where is he?"

"I don't know."

He sneered, "Hopefully he's off getting some house elves. Why are you doing making your own sandwich?"

I grew a bit defensive, "I'm neither lazy nor an idiot. I can make things myself; I don't need to depend on my father's money to get me through life."

Draco glared at me, "Little Miss Gryffindor, you think you're so high and mighty, eh? There's **nothing** special about you."

I shrugged and turned back to my sandwich, "If anyone knows _anything_ about being anything but special, it'd be you. A muggle-born out does you in every subject, and a half-blood always seems to out—"

Draco slammed his left hand down against the island. "Shut your mouth!"

I smirked and gathered the mustard, mayonnaise, and package of turkey meat. I quietly put them back in the fridge, walked over to the counter, picked up my small avocado skin, and tossed it into the garbage can. As I walked by Draco, I looked up at him and smirked. He grabbed my right arm roughly,

"You tell your father—"

"Tell me what?" My father stepped into the kitchen and slowly examined Draco and me.

Draco quickly let go of me and stood up straight. "My father has a message for you." Draco gave me a quick disapproving look before continuing, "He told me to tell you that the dark will arrive near dawn."

"Ah," My dad sucked in a bit of air, "alright. Thank you, Draco. Tell your father that I will be at your home then."

"Yes, sir." Draco started to turn around.

"Oh, and Draco?"

Draco turned back around. Politely smiling, he responded, "Yes, Mr. Saravia?"

"Don't you _ever_ touch my daughter like that again." I held back a "that's what you get" laugh while my father walked over to me. He put his left hand on top of my right shoulder and gave me a squeeze. "I'm proud that she's a Gryffindor, it shows bravery, intelligence, and willingness. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, about her house placement that shames anyone in this family."

Draco gulped. Sure, Draco was looking more and more like a man every day. He stands at six foot three, his jaw line has become more masculine, and he's rather muscular now, but my father is man. He stands at six foot five, his jaw line is strong and masculine, his body large and buff, and his words and facial expressions are strong. Draco's eye widened for a moment before he nodded up and down. "Yes, sir."

"Good, now please tell your father my response." Draco quickly shuffled out of the kitchen and back to his own mansion.

I turned a bit to face my father, "Thanks, Dad."

He smiled and ruffled my hair. "I'm going to help your mother pack her suitcase, she's going to visit her friend, Katie, for a few days."

"Okay," I smiled, heaved myself onto the counter for a seat, and ate my sandwich in silence.

I've always wondered why Draco is so mean to me, could it really be solely because I am a Gryffindor? I can't recall a single thing that I did to him to make him so rude towards me. Sure, I've told him off at school before, but I was never the first one to say anything. He was either teasing me, or picking on someone who was weaker than him. Is that it? That I actually stand up to him when I'm not the one being teased? Probably not; this is quite a bummer, really. I don't want to be his friend, or really, a friendly acquaintance, but my God! It'd be nice if he could be _somewhat_ kind to me for a day, or at least long enough for me to see him shirtless. We've known each other since we were babies, and for a while we were friends, but when he turned ten he also turned into a jerk. I didn't care much then, but I also didn't realize he was cute then, and now he's hot. No, not hot. More like sex on legs status.

I guess it doesn't really matter though; even if I did get the chance to see him shirtless, nothing would happen. Not that I want that. Honest. There would be way too many consequences for such a deed with him anyway. I'm sure he'd go right back to being cruel to me as soon as we were done. He'd probably tell everyone, too; his friends, my friends, my family.

GAH. Curse him. Curse him and his blonde hair, and his muscular body—

GAH. JALSDKFJLASDK. Curse that Draco Malfoy!

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I've been laying in my bed for a few hours now, trying to rid my mind of all thoughts, especially Draco related thoughts. I said a spell around eleven to turn my ceiling into a large, strong, glass window. I can reverse this back to the original wood and what not, but it is a beautiful night tonight, and I've wanted to fall asleep staring at the stars for a while. I'd go outside, but I don't want to end up falling asleep out there. My breathing has slowed down a bit, and my eyes are growing heavy; sleep was finally going to be mine.

"Neemers!" I hear a faint whisper, "Neemers! I need to talk to you!"

I yawned and slowly opened my eyes. "I hope it's for something important, I was about to fall asleep."

Drea closed my door, mumbled a spell to turn a light on in my room, and then walked over to me. While situating herself in a seated position at the foot of my bed, she asked me, "What's with all the tension between you and Draco? Last night you two seemed to be engaging in stare downs, and I heard that he grabbed you today." She smirked while saying the latter.

"Don't get excited," I took in a deep breath, "he was grabbing my arm to intimidate me."

"Oooooh," My sister faked a shiver and a shook for ten seconds. "Trying to dominate you, eh?"

I reached to my right and tossed a pillow at her. "He was trying to scare me, or something. I don't know, I guess he was just trying to freak me out."

"Either way," she smirked, "he's hot, you're hot, you two should be hot together."

I chuckled before replying, "Yes he is, thank you, and only in my dreams."

"Oh, is that what you were about to do before I woke you?"

We both laughed now. "Shut up, Drea!"

"Do you like him though?"

My laughter quickly turned into a sigh. "No. He's rude, and he's mean, and pretty much one hundred percent awful. He's always treated me poorly, just because we're neighbors now doesn't mean that anything's going to change."

"Except you're now more like to get some di—"

"Drea!" I laughed, "Please!"

"What? It's true! Didn't you see him checking you out one _thooousand_ times last night? It's obvious that he thinks you're totally hot."

I turned onto my left side. "Drea, leave it alone. He's cute, even a blind a-sexual would agree, but he's unbearable."

Drea sighed.

"I don't mean to be rude," I yawned, "but I need to sleep now."

"Okay," she smirked and walked to my bedroom door, "have sweet dreams." She turned off my light and whisper—yelled, "Of Draco!" She then shut my door and ran across the hall to her room. I quietly laughed into my pillow while stretching out my body and allowed myself to think for a little bit longer in an attempt to lift my mood. _Tomorrow is a new day, a different day. I'm going to tan by the pool and read. Tomorrow is a day for me; Drea will be off doing her own thing, Mom will be at Katie's, and dad will be busy at the Malfoy Manor. Tomorrow is tan and read day; it will be a good day._


	2. The Devil's Takin' Names

**Chapter Two: The Devil's Takin' Names**

As soon as I woke up enough to actually get out of bed, I took a shower. After I took a shower I sat around my room for a while, thinking about all the things I want to do today, and then I thought about all the things I probably will do today. I sighed and turned my head to the right, it's almost noon and already blazing hot. How can it be this hot? Sure, it is mid June, but still, it never usually gets this hot. I guess that this is a new part of England for me, so the temperatures here are probably different from London. I'm sure that New York has different weather than Florida, so it would make sense that this new small town would have a different weather pattern than London.

Before I became even more lost in needless thought, my father knocked on my door. I sighed before saying, "Come in."

He slowly opened the door and walked into my room about a foot. "I'm going to be gone for two days, and your mother should be home within a three or four days."

I raised my right eyebrow with curiosity, "Where are you going?"

My father quietly sucked in a deep breath before answering me. "I have some… errands to run –"

I sighed and rolled my head back into a comfortable position. "I wish you weren't a Death Eater."

"Neema!"

I sprung up and walked over to my closet, "I'm not going to bother you with an argument. I'm just saying that you take vacations to be with us, you know, your family," I shot him a somewhat cold look, "and then you have to do other work. I just wish we had more actual time together."

My father sighed, "I know, I wish I did, too."

We made awkward eye contact for a moment before I said, "Good luck, dad." I walked over to him and gave him a hug. "Be careful."

My dad smiled and hugged me back, "I'll be careful, don't worry about me." We parted after thirty seconds so that he could go tell Drea that he'll be gone for a week. After my dad finished his rounds, and then packing, he left. I decided that now would be the best time to tan, so I walked back over to my closet. There was a sudden loud pop noise; I turned my head a bit and saw Drea sitting on my bed with a big grin.

"Now that you're seventeen you're using magic as much as possible, aren't you?"

Drea laughed, "You know me too well."

I smiled and went back to searching through my newly organized clothes.

"And what are you up to?"

"I'm looking for a suitable bikini to tan in."

Drea walked over to my closet to help me search. "I can't believe you own bikinis now."

"Well," I sighed, "I figure, why not? I deserve them. I've been exercising faithfully for the last two years, why not reward myself?"

Drea smiled, "I know. I remember you before you lost all your weight. You were beautiful back then, too, by the way."

I blushed. "Thanks."

"I'm proud of you, sis." She hugged me, "You worked hard for this new body, and I'm glad you're finally comfortable and happy with yourself."

I was genuinely smiling now. "Thanks, Drea. That means a lot. Really."

She smiled back for a minute, and then looked back in my closet. She shuffled through my clothes for a few minutes before picking out a silver bikini. It was easily the skankiest thing I've ever owned, and probably ever will own. It's a tight tube top for the top of the bikini, and the bottom is pretty much a bunch of strings. Of course the front was appropriate, it covered what it needs to, but the sides are tied off strings, and the back only covers about two thirds of my rear. Drea smirked, "You should wear this."

I laughed and blushed, "Why?"

"If _anything_ will get Draco's eye, it's this."

I rolled my eyes, "Drea, I'm tanning."

Drea smirked and tilted her head a bit. "Are you telling me that no part of you, not even the tiniest bit of you, wondered, possibly even hoped that Draco would catch a glimpse of you?"

I shyly smiled and grabbed the bikini from her. "It wouldn't bother me if he saw me, but honestly," My eyes flickered up to hers for a moment, "this is a Me-Day. I'm going to tan, and I'm going to read. That's it."

"Mhm." Drea quietly hummed while leaving my room so that I can change.

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I felt a bit awkward walking around this large house, and around the gigantic back yard until I reached the man made pond in only a skimpy bikini. I had Drea cast a spell on me so that my skin would have enough tanning lotion on it, then I laid out my beach towel and made myself comfortable. For a while I was on my stomach, reading a magazine my sister left on the coffee table in our large living room; it was the usual magazine that is designed for teenage girls and young women in their twenties. It was mostly about fashion, and of course, it had articles on sex. However, I must confess, my favorite parts of this type of magazine are the quizzes, the articles on embarrassing moments, and of course, and the horoscopes. In muggle magazines, horoscopes are mostly just lies and guess work, but in the wizarding world, the horoscopes are much more accurate. Of course, these ones are general too; they're going off of your sign, not you specifically. I decided to skip to the back for moment to read my horoscope:

_This is no time for joking around. A lot is going on in your life; pay extra attention to your surroundings, especially if you are in a new place. Keep your defenses up, but don't become paranoid. Not everyone is out to get you, but be careful, not everyone can be trusted._

I thought, "Well, that was helpful and not totally vague." I silently laughed and smirked. After a while, I decided to turn onto my back so that the front of my body can tan. I took off my sunglasses, closed my eyes, and relaxed. Every once in a while I'd open my eyes so I could look at my watch, and I could have sworn that Draco looked at me a few times from his bedroom balcony; I smirked to myself and felt flattered. Draco often had summer flings with very pretty girls, but I knew we'd never have a fling, at least not in the near future; he knew that too, and if he was looking at me, that fact was killing him. Sure, it killed me a bit, too, but hey, it's killing him more. Hopefully.

When twenty minutes passed I moved back onto my stomach and read the rest of the magazine. I lost track of time, so I counted the pages that I read. I quickly subtracted one hundred pages from two hundred and twenty-four and decided that I probably spent another half our finishing up the magazine. With that, I rolled over and laid in the sun for another half our so that my front can get an even tan.

When my twenty minutes were up, I slowly stood up, stretched my arms towards the sky, and yawned. I picked up my things and looked over my shoulder to see Draco thoroughly examining my body from bottom to top. I turned a bit, smirked and waved at him, and started to go back into my home. He blushed and pretended not to notice me; he quickly went back to reading The Daily Prophet. I quietly giggled to myself while walking into the house. As I tossed my beach towel into the garage I could hear that my sister was blasting Rick James in the living room; I gently shook my had from left to right, she only blasts Rick James _that_ loud when she's getting high. I guess that this is the perfect time for her to do it, though; mom and dad are both gone for a few days, Gaston no longer lives with us – he always openly disapproved of this, and she knows that I don't really care about her smoking as long as she doesn't become a pot head.

The tanning lotion made my skin feel dirty, so I walked up stairs to my room, laid out a clean outfit, and then went to my bathroom. Every bedroom in our new mansion has its own bathroom, and they're large bathrooms at that. Of course, so are the rooms, so I guess in that sense, they match. I put on some music for me to listen to and sing along with while I bathed. I gently slipped out of my bikini so that I don't mess up any of the strings or ruin the back of my top. I then turned on my shower and stuck my right hand into the water, waiting for the temperature to adjust before I got in. When the water adjusted to the cool temperature that I set it to, I slowly got in. I let out a loud, happy sigh and stood underneath the water. I ran my hands through my hair so that the water can travel through my thick locks faster. I put some shampoo in my hair, and then scrubbed my body with vanilla scented body wash; I rinsed my body, then my hair. I then put conditioner in my hair, I fingered it carefully through so that all of my tangles won't turn into knots, I scrubbed my body again, rinsed my body, and then carefully rinsed my hair.

As soon as I got out of the shower, I wrapped a towel securely around my body. I put in some lavender scented, gentle product in my hair. I scrunched my hair towards my skull while spreading the product. I gave myself quick, careless finger curls, and then I scrunched it up again. I dried my body off and walked over to my bed; I put on my panties, and then my bra. I basically fought my lower body into my distressed, dark blue skinny jeans, and sighed with relief when I finally got to button them. I slipped my red tank top on, doing my best to avoid my hair. I bent from my waist, scrunched my hair up in my towel, and then wrapped and tied my towel securely on my head. I decided that the Ministry is much too busy to look into my magic, and they'd probably dismiss it anyway since it's just a hair-drying spell. After I was sure that my hair is completely dry, I bent from the waist again and gently took the towel off of my head. Since I'm bent over, I cuffed both legs of my jeans; they're several inches too long for me. After I cuffed my pants, I hung my towel up in my bathroom to dry, and I turned off my music. I adjusted my shirt a bit, gently moved some of my curls out of my face, and then walked down stairs.

My sister is now blasting the song I'm So Excited by The Pointer Sisters; I couldn't help but to walk into the living room. She already said a spell so that the smell of the pot won't linger on bodies, in hair, in the house, or in any of the items in the house. I turned the music up even louder; she looked over from the armchair and smiled at me. She laughed and told me that she almost didn't recognize me. "You… you look black, man!" She started laughing again. I rolled my eyes, partly because I know I only turned a shade darker, and partly because I think she looks quite funny. She put down her pipe on the coffee table and started dancing. She shouted, "I'M SO EXCITED, AND I … I JUST CA-CAN'T HIDE IT!"

I laughed at her, but I started to sing and dance with her anyway. I love dancing, but I always get self-conscience. "AND IF WE START PLAYIN' AROUND BOY, THAT'S JUST FINE!"

"IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO TELL TO DRACO?" There was a soft clicking sound, like the sound of a door, but we didn't pay much attention to it. First of all, Drea probably didn't even notice it, the music has passed loud, and she is high. I figured it was Gaston; he knows we've moved and he's wanted to see our new home, but his work hasn't allowed him any time off yet. Maybe he got a random day off?

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "OOH BOY! I WANT TO LOVE YOU! FEEL YOU! WRAP MYSELF AROUND YOU!"

The sound of footsteps coming closer to the living room was faint, but still noticeable. I know Gaston will be disappointed in Drea for smoking, and disappointed in me for not stopping her, but she's already high, and I'm already dancing.

"I WANT TO SQUEEEEEEZE YOU, PLEASE YOU, NO, I JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH!"

Our dancing grew faster and more ridiculous as we shouted in unison, "AND IF YOU MOVE REEEAAAAL SLOW! I'LL LET IT GO!"

The sound of a powerful, yet somewhat quiet hiss let out, "Please do." My body instantly stiffened. Too afraid to look behind me, I made eye contact with Drea; she didn't seem to notice my distress. Instead, she danced to the speaker system and turned it up a bit as Hot Stuff by Donna Summer came on. The feeling of cool, collected breathing tingled on my neck, "Dance to this, too."

I gulped as I felt a large, slender hand on my back. He pushed me forward a bit. Apparently Drea didn't notice how tense the air around us became, because she continued to sing along, "LOOKIN' FOR SOME HOT STUFF, BABY, THIS EVENIN! I NEED SOME HOT STUFF, BABY, TONIGHT!" I ran into her as she laughed and did inappropriate hip thrusts into the air. She opened her eyes when she felt my body hit hers. She was going to yell at me, but she saw who stood behind me. She ran over to the stereo system and turned the music all the way down.

"No, no." Voldemort shook his head from left to right, "Continue dancing. It's rather entertaining." He took three steps closer to us, closer to me. He ran his right index finger from my temple, down my jaw line, and then to my chin. He changed the angle of my gaze by moving my head from my chin. "Especially your sister here. Neema, is it?"

I gulped. "Ye-ye-yes, sir."


	3. Under the Gun

**Chapter Three: Under the Gun**

**A/N: I'd really appreciate some reviews. I'd like to know what you think of my story so far so I know if I'm wasting my time writing on this story, of if I should continue.**

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I stuttered a bit before saying, "It's hard for me to dance in front of people."

Voldemort smirked and continued to move my face by my chin. He turned my face to the side and examined the left side of my face. "Then I'm just helping you get over a fear." There was a moment of awkward silence before Voldemort turned my face so that he can examine the right side of my face. "You have a nice profile," Then he turned my face so that he was looking straight at me, "you're really quite beautiful."

I blushed, mostly out of embarrassment, the rest out of fear.

Voldemort's smirk widened. He looked over at a large, comfortable chair; with a flick of his wand, he wordlessly transfigured it into a tall, almost throne like armchair. After he sat in it and made himself comfortable, he looked at the group of Death Eaters that stayed after the meeting. "Come, come, boys, these chairs are nice. I assume their other pieces of furniture are comfortable as well."

They all made themselves comfortable in chairs, but three out of the six settled for our sofa. I know all of these men, but two of them I'm basically on an "uncle so-and-so" basis with: Rodolphus Lestrange – Bellatrix's husband – and Lucius Malfoy. As I looked around I saw that Draco is sitting down with his father, with a look of horror almost equal to mine; he knows what could easily happen. His father gave him a look that told him to calm down so that things would operate at a minimum; when his gaze reached me I gave him a pleading look. He looked horrified and distressed, too, but we both knew he couldn't help. Voldemort would torture any interferer on the spot. I looked around some more and realized that these men watched me grow up, and now they're going to watch me dance.

I gulped and blinked hard; never in my life did I wish for my father more. If he were here he'd be able to do something, he'd help me, he'd save me. He'd beg Voldemort to let me go, anything but this seemingly inevitable situation. My father and I are very much alike, he didn't make it obvious, but we all knew that I was his favorite. Of course he loved all of his children, but we got along best. On the other hand, what could he do? Voldemort would torture him within the second of asking for any mercy, and if my father tried to attack Voldemort, he would surely be killed on the spot.

"Well?" Voldemort sighed impatiently.

All Through the Night by Cyndi Lauper came on, "I…I don't know how to dance to this song." I whispered, hoping that he'd let me go.

He chuckled, as if my pores grew and rearranged themselves on my face to spell out my thoughts. "Give me the device that controls the songs then."

I gulped, picked up the remote for the stereo system, and walked over to him. It felt like my eyes were bigger than my head; Voldemort chuckled as he wrapped his right hand around the remote. He tugged the remote while I still had a hold of it; I practically fell on top of him. I was mere inches away from him since I stuck out my left arm to catch myself. He locked eyes with me while he pressed the "next" arrow with his right thumb. He only had to skip three or four songs before Just Dance by Lady Gaga started to play. He smirked and grabbed my face with his left hand; he brought his thin lips to my left ear and whispered, "I suggest you follow along." Before I had time to give any response, he put his left hand on my stomach and pushed me back. I stifled a cry while I slowly started to dance.

"My, my Lord?" My sister weekly spoke.

Voldemort put the song on pause before looking over at her.

My sister waited for him to say she could speak. He smirked and said, "Yes?"

"I…I think Neema would become more comfortable, err, loosen up…"

Voldemort started to look impatient.

"She'd be able to dance more freely if she could take a couple of hits." Drea gently waved her pipe. I don't think that Voldemort knows what weed is, but he wanted me to dance like I was before, so if things needed to be paused for a moment so that I can do something to allow myself to dance again, then fine. Drea grabbed her things and rushed over to me. She whispered, "I know you don't like the idea of smoking, but I know that you could really use some right now."

I never wanted to smoke before. I thought that it smelt bad, and my father always told me that smoking _anything_ is bad. He told me every chance he got to stay away from drugs and alcohol; he said that once I'm older, I could try drinking out if I wanted to. He was against young people drinking, or at least until they were in their twenties. But no matter the age, he has always been against drugs. He always tried to get Drea to stop, but ever since she came back from a vacation with her best friend and her best friend's mom, she was set on smoking. She wasn't a pothead; don't get the wrong idea about Drea, but a few times a month she liked to lock her door, open her window, and light up her pipe.

Today, however, I didn't show any type of protest. Instead, I breathed out all the air I could and opened my mouth. She stuck the pipe in my mouth; I didn't watch her do anything else. I closed my eyes and did as she told me to, when to breath in, how long to hold the smoke in my lungs, and whatnot. I backed up after the first hit so I could cough. She smiled at me and waved for me to come back. I smiled at her, too, and she put the pipe back in my mouth after I emptied my lungs; I took a few more hits before I started to feel light. I was still scared, but now I felt an odd sense of calm wash over me. I closed my eyes and let the feeling take over my thoughts, and therefore my actions. Voldemort saw this and put the music back on. Drea quickly left the room, and I don't blame her. She couldn't take watching me have to do this, I'm pretty sure she left to go puke, to be honest. However, she did leave me her pipe, weed, and lighter. I don't know when or if I'll need more, but it's nice to have the option.

I slowly raised my arms above my head in a slow, rhythmic motion. I moved my hips and stomach a bit, and started to dance. I moved around in small steps at first, but as the songs continued, my dancing grew more natural. Song after song played, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that I've been dancing for about an hour, especially with the amount of sweat on my body. I have been moving fast, so I was starting to get hot. The thin layer of sweat that's covering my body made this apparent. Voldemort took a deep breath before saying,

"You look hot."

I opened my eyes and slowly stopped dancing. "…Th-Tha-Thank you?" I whispered.

Voldemort laughed, it was a low, cruel laugh. "I meant temperature wise, but you do look…" He looked me over before continuing, "quite appetizing."

I gulped.

He smirked. He used his right hand to beckon me over to him, "Come here."

I slowly walked over to him. I stopped walking when I was about a foot in front of him.

He used his left hand to pat his lap, and used his right hand to lower the volume of the music.

I gulped.

His eyes narrowed before he told me to sit on his lap. I started to turn, but he laughed and told me to stop. "No, face me."

My fear grew as my heart beat gained speed as I wish I grabbed the pipe and lighter on my way over to him. I slowly straddled him and did my best to avoid eye contact. He noticed my small attempt at avoiding him; he chuckled and grabbed my face with his left hand, forcing me to look up into his red, snake like eyes. He put the remote down on the small table – it's more like a lamp stand, to tell you the truth – next to his chair and smirked. His rested his right hand on my left hip before he slowly tapped his fingers up and down my side. I tried to move my head so that I could see what he was doing, but his grasp on my face was firm. He stopped taping his fingers, but he quickly replaced the motion with a slightly cupped hand. He whispered, "You've got quite the curve. How old are you?"

I gulped and fought back some tears, "I'm…I'm sixteen, sir. My…my birthday's in May."

He let go of my face so that his left hand can trace my other side. He rested his hands at my hips for a moment before he started to inch his way under my shirt. I moved my head so that I could see what he was trying to do, but he used his right hand to pull my hair. I let out a small cry from the sudden pain of his pulling. He growled at me, "Don't you look anywhere but my eyes."

I gulped and nodded my head up and down to signal that I'll listen to him. He smirked and put his hand back. He continued to work his hands up my sides, but now from underneath my shirt. He moved his hands back down to my hips, took some of my shirt into his hands and said, "Lift your arms above your head."

I bit my lips to hold back the sound of my sob. I started to silently cry as he pulled my tank top off. His eyes grew a bit larger with excitement. He wasn't just enjoying the sight and feeling of my body, but the sight of my fear. I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry harder when Good Life by Kanye West started to play. Here the Dark Lord is violating me with my arms still up, and my background music was "welcome to the good life" and "put your hands up to the sky." Voldemort ran his hands up and down my back; his fingertips skimmed the part of my lower back that my low riding, distressed jeans showed. I started to put my arms down; Voldemort glared at me and slapped me hard. He then grabbed my face and forced me to look back into his evil eyes. "Did I tell you to put them down?"

I fought back a sob, as I replied, "No, sir."

"You'll do as you're told. Put them back up."

I shot my arms back up.

He laughed and slowly moved his hands up my back. He felt the slight dip in my back and said, "You have some nice definition, Neema."

I started to cry a bit more.

Voldemort smirked as he continued to run his hands up my back. He placed his fingertips on the back of my bra and slowly inched his way to the clasp. He slowly undid it, but quickly pulled the bra off of me. He watched with a wider smirk as my breasts jiggled from the fast motion. He murmured, "You can put your hands down."

I kept them up.

He gave me a questioning look. "Why are your hands still up?"

I whispered back, "_Can _doesn't mean that I _may_."

Voldemort laughed. It was loud, shrill, and cold, but still full of amusement. "That's very true. You _may_ put your hands down."

I put my hands down, but left my arms up.

Voldemort quickly decided if I was just being a smart-aleck, or if I was really just that afraid of him. He smirked as he decided upon the latter. "You _may_ put your _arms_ down, too."

I rested my arms at my sides. After about thirty seconds, Voldemort gently cupped my left breast in his right hand. I gasped at the feeling of his cold hand on my warm breast; he chuckled and did the same with his left hand. My tears started flowing more freely as he fondled and stared at my breasts. He hissed, "Lucius."

"Ye-yes, My Lord?"

"Is she really sixteen? She looks much older, perhaps twenty."

Lucius gulped, "She really is sixteen, sir. She's in the same age group at Hogwarts as my son."

"Ahh, Draco." Voldemort smirked and looked over my right shoulder. He ran his eyes up and down Draco's seated body. "Be a good boy and I just may let you touch her after me." Draco sat back further into my couch. Yes, he did have an erection, but that's because he thinks I'm gorgeous, and the sight of me dancing in tight clothes, and then me being half naked could only make one thing happen to him. Yes, he is mean and cold, but he wasn't getting any pleasure from seeing me cry or from being touched by the Dark Lord.

Voldemort let out another cold laugh while turning his attention back to me. "Kiss me."

"What?" I gasped through a cry.

He rolled his red, snake eyes. With a little more demand and volume, he repeated himself. "Kiss me." He tapped his right index finger on his thin lips.

I gulped and started to slowly lean my face closer to his.

* * *

**A/N: I'll continue this scene in the next chapter, but please review. The rest of the scene will more than likely be up late tonight, possibly in the wee hours of tomorrow morning. Also, I am not trying to promote the usage of marijuana. I advise you to not do anything that you feel is bad for you, especially if you live in an area where such activities are illegal. This story is pure fiction; please do not take any part of it into the real world. Unless you're going to review. :D**


	4. Be All You Can't Be

**Chapter Four: Be All You Can't Be**

I tilted my head to the right a bit, but right before our lips touched, I laughed. Voldemort rose where his right eyebrow should be. "Is something about this humoring you?"

"Wha-na-no."

He slapped me. "I'd be less angry if you just told me."

I took in a deep breath before telling him, "I was focusing on which way to tilt my head so that we wouldn't bump noses…."

Voldemort looked a bit angry, but then he said, "Lucky for you that we don't have that problem."

I pressed my lips tightly together so that the sound of my laugh wouldn't escape.

Voldemort rested his left hand on my right hip, and his right hand on the small of my back. He stared at my lips, then his eyes shot back up to mine; he didn't have to say anything. Once again, I leaned closer to him and slowly shut my eyes as our lips made contact; my soft, small, but full ones against his cold, chapped, thin ones. I didn't make a sound as I started to cry again, and to tell you the truth, I was thankful that Voldemort was immediately dominant. Everything about this sickened me to the core, but everything would be easier on me if I were not the dominant one. Voldemort started to run his hands up and down my toned back and my curvy sides; he was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of all my feminine muscle definition.

His hands were cold and skinny, and his fingers were long and bony. Yet, they felt strong, oddly strong. Not strong with magic, though, strong as if he could break my leg with one pull of a single hand. I broke our kiss and took a loud, deep breath. I was about to lean back into him, but he started to kiss my neck; I closed my eyes and envisioned Draco. He kissed, licked, sucked, and nibbled on every part of my neck as one hand traveled up to my breasts. After a few minutes of this, he put both hands on my back and leaned me away a bit. He kissed my collarbone and in between my breasts. I kept back a sound I was sure was going to be a mixture of a moan and a sob, mostly a sob. Voldemort started to kiss, lick, and suck on my breasts; I fought back my small moans as I wrapped one arm loosely around his shoulders, and ran my right hand up and down the back of his neck. I think he thought that I was showing him a sign of a type of liking or affection; I know I was considering strangling him.

Voldemort suddenly took my right nipple into his mouth; I let out a loud gasp and opened my eyes. I looked down to see his red eyes staring up at me. I could feel him smirk against me as one hand traveled down to my bottom. He squeezed my ass through my jeans while slowly kissing and licking his way to my other nipple. I choked out a soft moan as he swirled his tongue around my left nipple before gently putting his lips around it. He gently sucked on it and flicked his tongue up and down, then left and right while staring up at me. I sighed and rolled my head and eyes back. I focused in on the new song; I fought back a chuckle when I realized that Bad Romance by Lady Gaga is playing.

Before I could think about it, Voldemort kissed his way back up to my left ear. He nibbled on my earlobe for a few seconds before saying, "Stand up."

I immediately did as I was told.

He stared at my lower body while licking his lips. "Take off your jeans."

I immediately unbuttoned, then unzipped my jeans. I started to take them off, but I moved into my usual slight squat to take off the rest. Voldemort shot up and slapped me hard across my face. I let out a small sob; he pulled my hair so that I'd be looking up at him. "Pull them back up."

I did so.

"Take them off again, but this time," A smirk crept back onto his face, "bend at the waist." He ran his left hand from my neck, down in between my shoulder blades, and to my lower back as I bent at the waist to take my jeans the rest of the way off. I stood up and kicked them a few feet to the side. "Bend back over." It was a whisper, but it was still a strong command. I bent at the waist and waited for my next instruction. "Put your hands on the chair and spread your legs." I bit my bottom lip while silently crying again. I put my hands on the sides of the chair. I was holding on with quite a bit of strength as I spread my legs. Voldemort let out a low whistle while running his hands up and down my ass. He squeezed my left cheek with his left hand while he snapped my thong with his right. He bent over so he could speak into my right ear, "Only naughty girls wear thongs." He snapped it again as he rose and stood to the side. Loudly, he said, "And naughty girls need to be punished." He then spanked me, hard.

My eyes shot open and I jumped a bit.

Voldemort laughed, "Did that hurt?"

A small whimper came from my throat.

He stood to the side of me as he continued spanking me, alternating from cheek to cheek, smirking with pleasure the whole time. He didn't stop until my bottom was bright red. As if he took pity on me, he gently ran his hand up and down my cheeks, as if he was actually trying to sooth me. He bent down and kissed my lower back. He then stood up and walked behind me again. He slipped his left index and middle fingers under the strap on my left hip, and did the same thing with his right fingers on my right side. He slowly slid my thong to my ankles, kissing every inch of lower body he could reach. I didn't hold back any of my tears or crying sounds; I was being raped, what did I care if these monsters could hear me cry? Serves them right for letting this happen. Could no one really warn me that the Dark Lord was coming into my house?

Voldemort got down to his knees and pushed my inner thighs a little bit, signaling to me to spread my legs a little bit more. "_And_ you're shaved?" His lips curled into a sickening smile, "You _are_ a naughty, naughty girl!" He kissed my inner thighs before asking me, "Are you a virgin?"

I cried for a few seconds more before I found my voice. "No."

"Oh?" Voldemort laughed for a moment. "When'd you lose your virginity?" He ran his index fingers around my lips.

I coughed before stuttering out, "Eh-In fourth year. Night of the Yule Ball."

"To who?" He asked while finding a more comfortable seated position.

"Mark Thomason."

Voldemort stayed silent; it quickly became obvious that he wanted to know more about it.

"We were dating all year, so he took me to the Yule Ball, then to the Auh–Astronomy Tower."

"How romantic." Voldemort whispered and chuckled. "Details?"

"Like, like what?"

"What year was he?" Voldemort sighed, "House?"

With a small, quiet voice, I closed my eyes tight and replied, "He…he was in his sixth year, he was a Ravenclaw Prefect."

Voldemort seemed satisfied with the information I gave him. He lightly spanked me while turned his body one hundred and eighty degrees so that he was facing his Death Eaters, and staring up at my pussy. "I've pleasured you, but you're not wet."

I stayed silent.

"No matter," He smirked, "I can fix that."

Before I could say anything, he slowly licked up and down my slit. I gasped and grabbed the chair with even more force. He started to explore my folds with his tongue, purposely avoiding my clit and my entrance. I fought back all of my moans, all of my sounds, as he started to swirl his tongue around my clit, gradually making his circles smaller. Suddenly, he started to flick his tongue onto my clit, flicking it every which way. After a minute, though, he stopped and growled, "Moan."

I stayed silent.

He spanked me, with both hands, very hard on my ass while he gave my clit a bite.

A cry of pain left my mouth as I jumped onto my tippie-toes. He grabbed onto my ass with both of his hands and shot his tongue all over my clit. I cried out from the physical pleasure and the emotion pain. He started to suck on my clit; he moved his lips in a wave like motion, massaging my clit, while his tongue roughly licked it. I couldn't stop my moans, even when I felt his mouth form a small smirk. After a few minutes, my hips started to slightly buck, and my legs were getting shaking; I was holding onto the chair out of need. He slowly slid his right index finger into my pussy. I cried out from the feeling of his cold finger in my warm, now wet, pussy. He started to suck on my clit hard as he slid his index finger out, and his index and middle finger in. He quickly made his finger pace faster, probably to match his sucking. My body started to shake; I cried out from the pleasure he was giving me. As much as I wish it didn't feel good, it did, and I couldn't help that. I did my best to fight it all off, and I failed.

A loud moan flew out of my mouth as I orgasmed. I tossed my head back as my eyes also rolled back. I moaned as he slid his fingers out of pussy. He gradually stopped sucking on my clit, and started to lick his way to my entrance. I gasped as he slowly probed, almost poked at my hole with his tongue. He stuck in a little bit, and then slid it out. Then he slid in a little bit more, and slid that back. It took a few more times, but he put in his tongue as far as it would go. With his tongue still inside me, he started to swirl it in circles. I groaned at the strange, but pleasurable feeling. After about a minute of that, he started to flick his tongue in and out of my pussy; at first he was slow, but it quickly turned into a fast, smooth motion. My legs started to shake as he found my G-spot with his unusually long tongue. He rubbed against it as best he could and started to rub my clit with his still wet, right index and middle finger; I came twice before he stopped. During the last orgasm, I violently shook and loudly moaned; he made me squirt.

Voldemort got up from under my pussy, stood up, turned around, and pulled me into a standing position by my hair. I cried a bit as he turned me to look into his face. With a smirk, he hissed, "You're such a slut," he grabbed my ass with his right hand, pulling me even closer to him. "You liked that so much you squirted."

I gulped. I wanted to tell him that if he ignored my G-spot that wouldn't have happened, but I figured it best to keep that to myself.

"Now look at what you've done," he whispered, "my face is all wet. Be a good girl for once and clean it."

I hesitated at first, but he went to pull my hair again, so I pressed my lips against his dry, pale face. I kissed, licked, and sucked my juices off of his face.

He sighed with twisted pleasure, "You missed a spot."

I gave him a curious look.

He puckered his lips a little bit.

I gulped and started to lean forward. He roughly grabbed my face and said, "Keep your eyes open." Then he let my face go.

I breathed in deeply before I gently pressed my lips against his. He locked his gaze with mine while we kissed, forcing me to stare up into his evil, red, snake eyes as I licked my own juices off of his lips. He parted his lips a bit and ran his tongue in between my lips, gently prying them open. He slid his tongue into my mouth; at first he explored my mouth, but then he sucked on my tongue. I instantly knew what he wanted; I started to suck on his tongue. Whether it was for one second or one minute, I couldn't really tell. To tell you the truth, it felt like a year.

He slid his tongue back into his own mouth, parted from me, and took a step back. He shed himself of his black robe, revealing a pale, surprisingly muscular body. It wasn't actually muscular, or defined, or anything like that, but I expected to see a skeleton with paper white skin. Instead, I saw paper white skin covering a semi-muscular body. He wasn't muscular enough to be considered actually fit, or an athlete, but he was muscular enough to over power me.

My jaw dropped when my gaze fell to his penis. How could someone who died, was a ghost for a while, then a nasty baby like creature, and _then_ a… damn, I don't know what he really is. I guess he's a person, but obviously a horrible, monster like one. Anyway, how could he have such a, a big penis? It was fully erect, around ten inches long, and about two inches thick.

I shot my eyes over to the coffee table and put my hand out; my wand immediately flew into my hand. I pointed my wand at my lower stomach, near my uterus, and preformed an anti-pregnancy spell. Then I preformed another spell, this one protecting me from getting any diseases that I could get from having condom–less sex with the Dark Lord.

He grabbed my wand from my hand and tossed it aside. "What was that?" He screamed.

"It was a contraceptive spell!"

He laughed at the look of sheer terror on my face. "Good thinking." He sighed, "Very good thinking." He then sat back down on the chair he transfigured. "Come here."

I stood in front of him. "Bend over my lap."

I was confused for a moment, but then I walked to his side and bent from my waist. He put one arm under my chest, and the other under my thighs. He lifted me up a minute and then moved me a few inches so that my ass would be in the perfect position to spank.

He smirked ghoulishly and said, "That was very, _very_ good thinking. However, I didn't instruct you to do any of that." He bent a little to whisper into my closest ear, "And for that, you must be punished." He then started spanking me like before, but now he was spanking me much harder. My body tensed as I started to loudly cry. He actually started to laugh at the sound of my pain, not that I'm surprised. After a few minutes of turning my ass red, then bruising it, he spoke. "Stand up now."

I immediately shot up.

"Straddle me."

I glared at him and did so.

He smirked and stopped me before I sat all the way down on his lap. He put his left hand on my right hip, and put his right hand on his large dick. He started to rub the head of his dick against my pussy lips. I pressed the lips on my face together as I glared at him. He let out a cold, loud laugh as he positioned his dick at my entrance. After he pushed the head in, he put his right hand on my left hip. I bit my bottom lip to keep from moaning, but he saw that and slapped me very hard across my face. "Don't you force yourself to be quiet!"

I started to silently cry again. "Oh-okay, sir."

He smirked evilly again, firmly gripped my hips, and slowly started to slide me down the length of his dick. Small moans started to flee from my mouth as my eyes fluttered close and my head rolled back. I didn't have to look at him to know that he's smirking, and truth be told, I'm glad he didn't force me to look at him. I focused solely on the feeling of a large cock fucking my tight pussy. I started to groan louder as he made me ride him faster. After a few minutes, I bucked my hips down.

He growled, "Good girl."

I moaned, ignoring the sound of his voice.

He started to buck his hips up, sending his dick deeper into me. "That's right," he growled, "Ride me, bitch, ride me!"

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he dug his fingertips into my hips. He started to slam his dick into me as I slammed my hips down onto him. I tightened my arms as I started to practically scream and ride him faster. He then cupped my ass in his large, slender hands and stood up; I moaned from the new sensation. He slowly slid me up and down his dick as he walked over to the nearest wall. He pinned me to the wall with his body, and held me up by spreading my legs and placing his hands underneath my ass and upper thighs. He held me high so that I was at the perfect angle to fuck, and to kiss, not my lips though. He roughly and sloppily started to give me hickeys all over my neck as he started to fuck me again. I moaned with every motion of his dick; it didn't take him long to start roughly nailing me into the wall. I rolled my head to the right as he started to kiss, nibble, and suck on the left side of my neck. I dug my nails into his back as I opened my eyes to see Draco. I quickly eyed him; he instantly knew what I needed. He unbuttoned his shirt so I can see his lean, fit torso, and he started to thrust upwards in the same fashion that Voldemort is; this makes fantasizing about Draco much, much easier. My moans grew louder the longer I stared at Draco. Within two minutes, I had a violent orgasm, and about a minute after that, Voldemort pulled all the way out of me, then slammed his dick all the way back in. He did this a few times, the last time he did this, he groaned loudly and emptied his cum in me.

After a few minutes of enjoying the feeling of my orgasm squeezing his dick, Voldemort pulled out of me, shook my arms off of him, and took a step back; he laughed as I fell. My breathing and heart rate were sky high; Voldemort forcefully tugged me up by my elbows. He spun me around, and then pushed me down in front of the men. He wordlessly preformed a cleansing spell; it felt quite odd, but I'm glad that his seed is no longer in my body.

He sat back down on his transfigured chair and let out a low, long, cold laugh. "I know you were fantasizing about Draco the whole time."

I gulped, my eyes widened, and I held my breath.

"Don't worry," he sighed and folded his arms behind his head, "I'm not going to punish you with any spells."

I started to breathe again.

"However, you're not done for the day." He chuckled. "Rodolphus!"

"Ye—yes, My Lord?" He gulped as his eyes widened to practically the size of his head.

"Get up and get naked." Voldemort smirked. Of all the people in the world, well, I guess in this room…. Of all the people in this room! Of _all _the people in this room, he picked my father's best friend. I suppose that I can't be surprised, though. What else should I have expected from a psychopathic, murderous maniac who also happens to be a rapist and the Dark Lord?

Rodolphus slowly stood up, took of his robe, and then took off his shoes, shocks, shirt, pants, and boxers. His eyes locked with mine; they told me he was sorry, mine told him that it's okay.

"Rodolphus," Voldemort sighed, "why don't you go and feel that slut up."

Rodolphus gulped and slowly walked over to me.

Voldemort sighed again while shifting a little bit in his seat. "Come on, Rodolphus, she's already in the doggy position."

Rodolphus didn't wait for any more instructions; it was more painful to hear how to do what he has to do. I started to silently cry again as I felt his breath on my neck, his hands on my sides, and his erection against my right inner thigh. He put his lips to my right ear and very softly whispered, "I'm so sorry" numerous times.

I turned my head to the side and very softly whispered back, "The faster we do this, the faster it's over with."

He nodded in agreement and started to kiss my neck. I shuddered, partly from the fact that this is my dad's best friend, and partly because it actually felt good. Oh what the hell. **Voldemort** has just raped me; at this point, if a kiss from Rodolphus feels good, I won't deny it. Rodolphus gently started to nip and suck on my neck, leaving smaller, cleaner hickeys. I let out soft moans as he started to gently caress my breasts and move his kisses to the back of my neck. He kissed his way down my back, and then back up. He tenderly grasped onto my hips with his large, masculine hands as he slowly pressed the tip of his dick against my entrance. He let out a low, deep groan as he started to push his dick into me.

Voldemort chuckled, "Is she tight again?"

"Yea-Yeah," Rodolphus groaned and squeezed my hips.

Voldemort's lips curled back into a ghoulish smirk. "How tight is she, Rodolphus? Inform the rest."

"Tight like a virgin." Rodolphus groaned.

Voldemort happily sighed, "That's the beauty of younger women. They're always so tight. I'm pretty sure they stay that way up into their late twenties, at least that's my experience." Voldemort seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone else.

Rodolphus ran his left hand up and down my back while he continued to squeeze my right hip with his right hand. After a few minutes, he started to grab at my jiggling breasts.

"Neema," Voldemort asked, "are you a C or a D?"

"Auuuuuhhh," for a moment I was too flustered from the pleasure to answer, "I'm, I'm a C."

Voldemort let out a loud sigh. "First you say you're sixteen, and now you're a C? Fuck that!" He shrilly laughed, "As far as I'm concerned, you're twenty and you're a D."

Rodolphus started to thrust into me harder and faster; he went back to squeezing my hips as he watched his dick slide in and out of my pussy.

"Rodolphus," Voldemort smirked as he watched me being fucked, "do tell how deep Neema's being fucked."

"Ahh!" Rodolphus groaned, "Nine inches, sir."

Voldemort loudly sighed, "Good. That slut likes big dicks."

I ignored all of Voldemort's comments as I pushed my hips back to meet Rodolphus. I pretended that Rodolphus is Draco; it helped me get over all of this, at least, for the moment. I opened my eyes to find that I'm staring right up at a shirtless Draco. I licked my lips as I eyed his abs; my moans almost instantly grew longer and louder. Rodolphus tightly gripped my hips and started to slam his full length into my aching pussy. He groaned after every other thrust, I, on the other hand, am moaning like nobody's business. It didn't take me long to orgasm, but it did take Rodolphus a little while. The feeling of my already tight pussy squeezing his dick made him fuck me harder and faster, sending me into another orgasm. Apparently, that was all he could take. He slammed his big dick deep inside of me, groaned, and came. I moaned and my body shook at the feeling; it was a large load, he wasn't finished when he started pulling out of me, so that felt especially odd.

As Rodolphus stood up, quietly apologized, and sat back in his chair, Voldemort laughed and stood back up. He roughly stood me up, and then bent me over at the waist. He spanked me a few times before turning me so that the other men could see. "Tsk. Tsk." Voldemort spanked me again, earning a loud squeak from my throat. He supported me with his left arm while using his right hand to spread my legs. He then slid his right hand down to my pussy; I started sobbing. He spread my pussy lips and said, "You're such a slut. Look at all this cum." He stuck his fingers in my pussy, and then brought those fingers into my line of vision. "What do you think of that, slut?"

"I…" I started to slightly shake from my sobs, "I think that this is all disgusting."

Voldemort pushed me down with extreme force; I landed on my ass. He got down on his knees – he's still significantly taller than me, in case you were wondering – and entangled his left hand in my hair. He pulled my hair and started to slap me with his right hand, but I couldn't move. This caused his slaps to sting at least three times more, plus he's added the extra pain of brutally pulling my hair. I didn't care how much I cried at this point; I felt so dirty. I orgasmed several times; however, I was pretending it was Draco the whole time. So it wasn't like I _really _enjoyed it, I just had to get through it. As far as I'm concerned, it was Draco who gave me those orgasms.

Voldemort laughed at me. "Look at you. Your face _and _ass are red and bruised up, you have hickeys all over your neck and chest," he slid his right hand in between my legs. He stuck his index and middle fingers in for a moment, then wiped the cum onto my stomach. "You have cum inside of you, _and_ on you," he smirked down at me and laughed again, "_And_ you enjoyed yourself." He slapped me once more for good measure before getting up. He looked down at me with a smirk and hissed, "What would your father say?"

I went crazy. I raised my hand so that my wand would fly into it, then I shot up from the floor. Voldemort thought I was going to try to curse him since I pointed my wand at him, so he shouted a defense spell, but that didn't help him. I didn't use a spell on him; instead, I whipped his left eye with the tip of my wand. He let out a groan that was a mixture of physical pain, and surprise. I continued to whip at his eyes with my wand while screaming, "YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU FUCKING FREAK! YOU SICK! YOU SICK BASTARD! YOU FLITHY, HALF BLOODED—" That was when he grabbed both of my wrists in one hand and slapped me so hard that I got whiplash and fell to the floor. I immediately started to weep; he started to laugh at me, again.

He clothed himself and instructed Rodolphus to do the same. He then sighed, stretched his arms above his head for half a minute, and instructed the Death Eaters to follow him back to the Malfoy Manor. As he walked by me, he spit on me and let out another shrill, cold, low laugh.

I started to cry even harder.

When they were out of the living room my sister rushed into the room. The moment she saw me, she puked. I grabbed my wand and weakly mumbled a cleansing spell on myself. After she puked, my sister crawled over to me and held me close to her. We spent the rest of the afternoon violently sobbing on the living room floor.

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**A/N: So that was pretty sick, but Voldemort **_**is **_**a sick, twisted bastard. Please, please, please review.**


	5. Young Girl, Better Run, Girl

**Chapter Five: Young Girl, Better Run, Girl**

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**A/N: Special thanks to Ragna89 for their reviews. I really appreciate you putting the time in to writing me about my story. :) And yes, I did enjoy your long review. ^-^**

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My father arrived home around noon today, and my mother will be home tomorrow in the early afternoon. I made Drea swear not to tell either of them of what happened; I don't know how either of them would react, especially my dad, but I know that more pain would be caused if they knew. At the very least, they would blame themselves. My father might try to somehow attack Voldemort, and he'd probably be severely injured, if not killed. I'd rather suffer and slowly move past it than have everyone hurt and not be able to do anything to fix what I'm feeling.

From when I woke up at four thirty this morning, until now, two in the afternoon, I've been reorganizing practically everything in my new room. I've moved about half of my furniture around, I've organized my clothes by type, and then by color; the same goes for all of my shoes. I've moved my dressers and shelves around, too. I sat down on the left edge of the foot of my bed and looked around at what I've moved. My right wall is painted a metallic like, gorgeous shade of gold, and my left wall is painted Gryffindor red. The wall with my door is painted teal, and my back wall is painted a medium shade of a metallic like purple. My ceiling is painted midnight black with light yellow—white stars. It gradually fades into a color like dusk, then to a beautiful sky blue with some fluffy white clouds, and then to a realistic sundown.

My right wall, the red one, has numerous, in-the-wall style shelves, and my left wall, the gold one, has my giant, walk in closet. I've left a few of the shelves empty, but quite a few of them have mix-friendly, unlighted, scented candles I've also placed a few vases here and there, some with sunflowers in them, others with tulips, others with lavender, others with marigolds, some red, some gold. I've put some of my favorite family pictures, and some of my favorite pictures of my friends in pretty, and uniquely shaped and designed frames. By my closet is my make-up desk; I have a very large mirror that gives me the option of lighting, – none, work/school, evening, etc… – and I have an entertainment center placed on the wall with my door. It's placed so that it's diagonally facing my bed, so that I can be pretty much anywhere in the room and still be able to see the TV or play my music without it being focused in on particular area.

I also put down new bathroom rugs in my bathroom, and painted the walls a soft, calming green, the shade that's often found at spas. My shower curtain is now held up by dark green hooks with small, painted, ceramic dragonflies and flowers securely glued on. I rearranged all my hair products, shower gels, and shaving items within my shower; I also reorganized the products under my sink.

I took a quick shower so that I can rid my body of all my sweat; I decided that I wasn't too fond of the hair on my body, so I spent time shaving that off. I almost didn't, I didn't want to look any better, I don't want Voldemort looking at me with any type of interest, but I don't like the feeling of stubble, or of hair besides on my head. Well, you know, eyebrows, eyelashes, and the hair coming from my scalp; my mustache could leave. I don't have a man mustache, but my family is a mixture of a few different ethnicities; we're mostly Armenian and Greek, but we have a little bit of Italian, and a little bit of Egyptian blood in us as well. That being so, it's pretty much expected that I have a bit of a mustache.

When I got out of the shower, I shaved my mustache, and my faint sideburns; Draco used to tease me when we were younger that my sideburns and mustache made me a man. When I was younger my hair was much darker, but when I turned thirteen, not only did my facial hair color lighten, but so did my mentality on the subject of him teasing me. When he told me that I was a man because of my sideburns and mustache, I told him that I felt bad for him. When he asked me why, I told him that I felt bad for him because he'll never be able to grow a mustache, or sideburns, for that matter. He never teased me about any of my facial hair ever again.

I dried off, did my usual curly hair care routine, and walked over to my stereo system. I turned up my volume as "Tik Tok" by Ke$ha started to play. I then walked over to my closet; I felt like sobbing when I saw my favorite distressed jeans, but I bit my lip and told myself that it's not worth it. One day I'll be able to wear those again without feeling dirty, besides, I didn't want any of what Voldemort gave me that day. Those are my jeans, and that red shirt is the perfect color for Quidditch matches! I'll be damned if Voldemort takes my dignity _and_ my wardrobe!

After about ten more minutes of searching through my clothes, I decided to wear my white dress. It looks quite similar to a toga; it's a one-shoulder dress with a golden colored fabric just under my breasts. It's about one inch in width; from that point, the white fabric of my dress bunches up a bit. The golden fabric underneath my breasts, and the slight bunching of the fabric flattered my figure beyond words. I hate to sound vain, but the way it fit my body, I couldn't help but to think that I looked almost like a Goddess, and I really felt like a Goddess. I gently slipped my feet into my gladiator like sandals; they're also gold, they're the same shade as the golden fabric on my dress. I wiggled my toes a bit before I squatted and softly wrapped the golden, fabric like straps up my calf. I tied the fabric from my shoes just below the back of my knee; I did this to both and walked around a few feet to make sure that my shoes are on securely, but also comfortably. When I was satisfied, I walked over to my make-up desk.

I did the basics; I put on my primer, then my foundation, and then a little bit of blush. Usually I stop there, but today I decided to go further. I lined my lips with a light shade of pink, almost nude, actually, filled my lips with a slightly lighter shade of pink lipstick, and then slowly ran a thin layer of transparent, vanilla flavored gloss over my lips. I gently smacked my lips together twice, patted the area around my mouth with a little bit of toilet paper to make sure that I didn't go outside of the lines of my lips, and then continued onto my eyes. I have dark chestnut colored, medium sized, almond shaped eyes, so I decided to go with a dark brown, slightly hazel colored eye liner. On my top lash line, I slowly ran my eyeliner from the inside to the out, gradually making the line from thin to a medium size. I then gently pulled the skin under my eye down a bit, so that my access to my lower lid isn't as limited. I found the halfway point, and then lined from that to my outer eye; I did this to both of my eyes. I lightly smudged my liner a bit to give it the slightly faded look that I've wanted to experiment with for a while now. I checked it out for a minute before I decided that it looks good. I looked over my eye shadows and decided to use a gold, a light brown, and a darker brown. I lightly covered my lids with the gold, I then put a bit of the light brown a little bit around it, and I gently smudged a little bit of the light brown with the gold. To complete my smoky eye affect, I put a little bit of my dark brown shadow around the corners of my eyes. I took a Q-tip to my eye shadow on both eyes until they were the exact way I wanted them. I smiled proudly; this is one of the few times I did my eye shadow without touching my eyeliner. When I was hundred percent happy with my make-up, I picked up my wand and said a spell so that my make-up won't smudge or come off until I wash it off. I turned a little bit so that I can access my jewelry box better; I opened it up, scanned it for a minute, and then gently pulled out a pair of gold earrings. I looked in my mirror so that I can put my earrings in in the correct direction, and to be honest, so I didn't end up poking a second hole through my ear; I always have a hard time with finding my piercing. I smiled at the sight of my earrings; they're small, but still pretty. They're in the shape of a few twigs from an olive tree; the leaves are painted green, and a brown thread was painted around the lower middle, as if someone was trying to make a bouquet making olive tree branches.

Just as I stood up, my father knocked on my door and then immediately walked into my room. "Neemie, are you ready to go?"

"Go where?" I raised my right eyebrow as I turned to face him.

"Didn't Drea tell you?"

"No."

He sighed and said, "We're going to the Malfoy's home. There's a dinner for all of the, the uh…"

I crossed my arms in front of my chest, "Death Eaters?"

My father sighed and rested against my doorframe, "And our families."

I gulped and put most of my weight on my left leg, my back leg. "That's…that's odd."

"Yeah," my father sighed again and nodded his head in agreement, "we usually just eat while at the meetings, but Voldemort wanted our families here for some reason."

"I…I don't want to go."

My dad had a confused look on his face. "Then why did you dress up?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn't about to say, "Well you see, dad, ever since Voldemort raped me in the living room and then made your best friend rape me, too, I've felt super dirty. So, in an attempt to feel good about myself, I figured I'd wear one of my favorite outfits and play around with my make-up a bit."

"You're going, whether or not you want to."

My eyes practically popped out of my head. "Why?"

My dad looked at my face, "What's wrong?"

"Na—nothing. Why do I have to go?"

"I don't really know," he shrugged and tried to read my facial expression, "but Voldemort made it clear that our families were to accompany us." My dad paused for a minute, "Especially you and Drea."

I gulped again, "Oh—okay." I turned my stereo system off with a flick of my wand.

My dad smiled, "It's illegal to be underage and use magic outside of school."

I laughed at him, "And it's illegal to be a Death Eater! But I don't see that stopping you. Besides, if the Ministry can't figure out the dark magic happening between our house, and the Malfoy's house, then they're not going to find out that I'm using magic outside of school."

My dad laughed and agreed with me. "Will you go check if Drea's ready? I need to take a quick shower and get dressed."

"Sure," I smiled. My dad went up the stairs and to his room while I walked across the hallway to Drea's room. I knocked on her door and waited a minute before she opened it.

"Hey Neemers—wow!"

I looked down at my dress while asking, "What?"

Drea rolled her eyes and flicked my arm.

"Ouch." I looked back up at her, "What was that for?"

"You need to get some confidence, you're _sooooo_ gorgeous, it isn't fair."

I laughed and said, "Thanks?"

"Yeah," she chuckled and started to walk back into her room. "Come in, and close the door behind you."

"Okay," I mumbled and did so.

She picked up her pipe, packed her bowl, and walked over to me. "There's no way that I'm going over to the Malfoy Manor to see those…those creatures," she shuddered, "without being high."

I let out a sigh of relief and sat on her bed. "Please put the no-stink spell on me."

Drea laughed, "You really think I'd do this and not do that?"

I shrugged and laughed. She pointed her wand at me and did a few motions while saying, "No stank, thanks!"

It tickled when it hit me, but I didn't laugh because of that. After she preformed the spell on her, I asked, "Is that _actually_ the spell."

Drea put away her weed before sitting down next to me and laughing, "I know, I know. It sounds totally ridiculous, right?"

I nodded my head up and down and continued laughing. She laughed for a minute before saying, "I wanna smoke now, so stop laughing."

I did so.

She emptied her lungs, put her mouth on the mouthpiece, covered up the small hole by the bowl, and then put her wand by the bowl. A flame came from the tip of her wand and lit her pipe; after a few hits, Drea passed me her pipe. With a slightly dazed smile, she said, "Did you learn from watching?"

I nodded and did the same as she did, except that I took a few hits within ten minutes, waited five minutes, and then took a few more hits. After I handed Drea her pipe, I was surprised that I could stand. I felt so light, dazed, and generally calm that I was considering just collapsing onto the floor so that I could fully appreciate the tingles flowing through my body. "Come on," I sighed and walked to her door; I didn't open it until she was standing behind me. We slowly walked down our stairs to the first floor off the mansion, we probably looked completely foolish walking so slowly and holding onto the one railing with two hands. When we made eye contact we busted up laughing, we paused for a moment so that we could laugh, and we laughed hard.

When we finally got downstairs, dad walked over to us. He was too nervous about how the night would go to notice that we're pretty much ripped. Not that I'm complaining, I'm sorry that he's nervous, but whatever's going through his head, I'm pretty sure he isn't as nervous about seeing the Dark Lord as Drea is, and I'm pretty sure she's not as nervous and disgusted about seeing Voldemort as I am, or anywhere near I am, to be one hundred percent honest.

Instead of walking over, dad linked arms with us and apperated us there. Apperating in general is very unpleasant, but apperating high is crazy, almost scary. When we landed in the Malfoy's foyer dad was standing, but Drea flung into me as I ran into a cold, hard, stonewall. My dad rolled his eyes, "Are you two _ever_ going to be able to land like a normal wizard?"

"Technically," I smirked while standing up straight and checking my outfit as best as I can, "Drea and I are witches."

Drea busted with laughter while my dad rolled his eyes, "Stop worrying, you two both look beautiful."

We both smiled and replied in unison, "Thanks, dad."

He smiled and linked arms with us once again. After he drew in a deep breath, he said, "Behave. Don't make a fool out of yourselves, that'll be bad for me, too." After a moment of awkward silence, he asked us, "Are you two ready to into their dinning room?"

Drea nodded yes. As we started to walk in, I quietly asked my dad while wiggling my linked arm a bit, "Are you a pimp, now?"

He laughed for a minute because of the joke.

Drea laughed for a minute because dad laughed, and of course, because she's high.

I laughed because my joke was funny, and I'm high too. Drea and I laughed for a little bit too long, so our dad hushed us. Drea and I quietly gasped when we walked into their dinning room; it was always large, but they obviously put a spell on it to make the room about thirty times as large. Decorations filled the room; there weren't too many decorations, so the room looked pretty nice, except of course, for the tall, ball headed man-snake. I did my best to ignore him; I turned my back and spoke with my dad while Drea left us so she could hunt down some appetizers.

After a few minutes of talking about what we wanted to change in the new mansion, my dad told me in a very low voice, "Lord Voldemort keeps looking at you."

I gulped as my eyes grew.

My dad lovingly stroked my face with his right hand for a moment, "Sometimes I wish you weren't so damn beautiful."

I blushed.

My dad put right hand on my left shoulder. "Be polite and well mannered if he talks to you. I don't care what he says, don't be anything but pleasant; things will quickly become brutally awful quickly if you, or _anyone_ upsets him. So don't be that _anyone_."

I gulped, as if I didn't already know.

I subconsciously wrapped my arms across my chest. My dad gently moved me to his side by wrapping his right arm around me. Barely moving his mouth, my father practically breathed out, "I think he thinks you're attractive."

With a slight sarcastic tone, I whispered, "_Naaaah_. He **definitely** thinks I'm hideous; I have nothing to worry about."

My dad pressed his lips together to fight off his laugh, "God, I hope I'm wrong."

Voldemort smirked while walking over to us.

My dad drew in another deep breath before saying, "Let him do what he wants,"

I shuddered and did my best not to start breathing too heavily while thinking, "Because I put up such a good fight last time?"

"He might try to test my faith through you, don't let him screw us over."

My jaw locked with hate for a moment, so I did my best to focus on the feeling of my high. It was nice; once I breathed a bit and stared off into space, my whole body has a light tingle about it.

"Good evening, Nasier."

"Good evening, My Lord."

Voldemort hissed, "Where is your son?"

"Gaston is currently in Italy."

Voldemort looked a little bit surprised, "Oh? What is he doing there?"

My father drew in a breath before replying, "He saved up some money to go on a vacation with some of his friends. So far, they've been to Greece and Armenia, after this they're going to Sicily, and then they're coming back home to England."

Voldemort and my dad continued to talk; I could tell every time Voldemort looked me over because my father would squeeze me protectively to him. I blocked out their conversation while thinking of one of my favorite songs, "Mr. Right" by Mickey Avalon. Just as Voldemort was about to talk to me, Drea ran up and practically shoved a plate of appetizers into my chest. With a half filled mouth, she said, "These are _soooooooooooohhhhhhhh_ good!"

I laughed at her and took a stuffed mushroom off of the platter. After I swallowed it I replied, "Mhm! God, you're right!"

"I know!" She said while eating more. I snatched the plate away from her. Clearly upset, she asked me, "What are you doing?"

"You're going to eat them all," I turned my body so that I'm facing my dad's side, "and these are too good for me to allow that."

Drea was angry, but laughed anyway. I looked at her over my shoulder, faking a dirty look while slowly eating them. Suddenly, she lunged for another. I pulled away from my dad; she stopped just before running into him. His face expressed his outrage, especially when Drea whined, "Dad, Neema's always been your favorite, but can't you make her share the mushrooms?"

My dad drew in a quick, but deep breath before saying, "Drea, we will not discuss the subject of favorites, at least not here. You've been eating a lot of mushrooms, Neema can have some now."

Before my dad, Drea, or I said anything else, Voldemort chuckled. Just as I pushed a mushroom past my scared lips and started to slowly chew it, he ran his right index finger from my temple, down my jaw line, and then to my chin. He examined my face just like he did before he raped me; my body started to lightly shake.

A smirk crept back onto his ugly, snake face before he looked at father, "Nasier, your youngest is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

I gulped down the mushroom and hoped that it made my breath horrible.

Voldemort's eyes flickered up to my fathers face for a moment. "Take the platter, Nasier."

My father put his right hand next to my left one and gently took the plate from my hands.

Voldemort smirked and started to stroke my face, but not in the loving way that my father did ten minutes ago. He stroked it in a way as if even his hands were laughing at my fear and pain. "How old is she?"

My father did his best to control his breathing, "She is sixteen, my Lord."

Voldemort let out a small laugh of disbelief; people started to look at us. "That can't be," Voldemort tilted my head up and locked his gaze with mine, "She looks _at least_ eighteen."

"I assure you, my Lord, she is sixteen. She turned sixteen in May."

"What's her name?"

I thought, "You bastard. Putting me through all this, _again_? And now you have to drag my father into this, too?"

Voldemort smirked, I'm pretty sure he just read my mind.

"Her name is Neema."

"Neema," Voldemort hissed, "that's a very beautiful name, matches her perfectly."

My dad gently nudged me with his left elbow.

"Tha—Thank you, Lord Voldemort."

There was a short, silent pause between the three of us before he whispered, "Are you wearing make-up, Neema?"

"Ya—Yes."

"It looks nice." Before I got the chance to force out a thank you, he touched my earlobes to look at my earrings. "These are beautiful, as well." He thentilted my head to the left and saw a very small splotch of a fading red mark on my neck. He immediately recognized it as one of his hickeys. I made eye contact with Draco while Voldemort looked at me and stroked my face and neck. Draco wanted to look away, but the look in my eyes begged him not to look away. Draco's face was a strange mixture of indifference, jealousy, and anger. "Gosh," I thought, "I hope he's jealous of Voldemort, not of me." I pressed my lips together to hold my laugh back.

Voldemort noticed this and grabbed my face by my chin. He forced me to look up into his snake eyes and hissed, "What are you thinking?"

I guess he missed my thoughts while he was examining my face. "I-I was tha—thinking—"

Voldemort slapped me across the face; it stung as bad as the first time. "Out with it!"

I sucked in a deep breath and fought back my tears, "I was thinking that Draco is very handsome."

Voldemort's lips curled into a sickening smirk. "I was once very handsome, back in my youth."

I held my breath.

He tenderly stroked where he slapped me and softly hissed out, "I had thick, dark hair and dark eyes. A pale complexion, amazing facial features." He sighed and gently squeezed my chin again. He made me look back up at his eyes as he continued speaking, "You'd have liked me, back in my youth. Every woman did." Voldemort touched every part of my face as he explained what his looked like, "I had high cheek bones, a straight nose, a strong jaw line..." He sighed.

I gulped.

He smirked evilly, not bothering to hide any of his thoughts from his face. He leaned down a bit and whispered in my ear, "I'm sure you'd like to have sex with the youthful me." He let out a cold, low chuckle as he stood up straight. Voldemort gently entangled his right index and middle fingers in a few of my dark brown, big, soft curls. "Your skin is soft," he sighed, completely ignoring my father's horror and anger, "your hair is soft," he smirked again, "I wonder what else is soft."

I didn't bother trying not to cry anymore. I can't take this; I tried to stay strong for my father, but I, I just can't. Not right now. Flashes of his rape kept popping up in my mind, and his present touch made me want to bend over and puke.

"Turn," he said as he let go of my hair.

I heaved a breath into my chest as I slowly turned three hundred and sixty degrees.

Voldemort whistled, it was a low, blood-curling whistle. Voldemort hissed, "Nasier,"

My father unlocked his jaw to be able to respond. His voice was filled with horror and rage, "Yes, my Lord?"

"Do you remember that potion? The one I sent you out for the ingredients?"

That bastard! That's why my father left for those few days! For a stupid potion!

My father clenched his fists behind his back, and did his best not to angrily talk through his practically clenched teeth. "Of course I remember, my Lord."

"Make it as soon as possible; I want my youthful appearance back, and soon."

"Of course," my father fought back screaming and hitting Voldemort, "sir."

"That sick, sick, monster!" I screamed in my head, "He sent my own father for a potion he was going to use to make raping me easier. Easier… on my eyes? I don't know. _**Anything**_ would be easier to view."

Voldemort smirked again while stroking the left side of my face with his right hand. He ran his eyes slowly down and up my body. Too softly for anyone else to hear but him and I, Voldemort hissed, "I'd like a new position, I felt a bit too dominant last time."

I cringed and let my tears flow out of my eyes. I sort of wished that I didn't put that spell on my make-up, I'd love for Voldemort to be able to see that he's running my make-up. Then again, he'd probably like that; bastard would probably jizz in his pants on the spot.

Back to his regular voice, Voldemort continued with his sick smirk, "I'd love to watch your body move while you were on top."

I screamed in horror and shoved my body into my father's chest. My father dropped the silver platter with the mushrooms just in time to catch me. I did my best to hide my face in chest and I grabbed onto him, hugging him in a way that begged for his protection. He wrapped his arms around me; one around my middle, the other pressing my head further into him.

"My Lord," My dad grinded his teeth while speaking, "I'd like to take my daughters home now."

Voldemort made eye contact with my father for a moment before looking back down at me. He twisted his right index fingers in the same pattern as one of my curls. "I'd like to take this one home, too."

I shrieked and started to bawl in my father's arms, the only reason that I'm standing is because my father is supporting my body.

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**A/N: I know it's the 90's and all of that, but I'm using my creative license here and using current music and muggle inventions in this story.**


	6. The Right Kind of Sinner

**Chapter Six: The Right Kind of Sinner**

It's been a week since the dinner party at the Malfoy's house, but I'm still shaken up. I've been chilling on the couch in my living room for about three hours now; I've been watching muggle movies. At first, I could barely walk by this room, but this is a room in my house. This is my house, and he can't take that away from me. What happened here is awful, but I'm not going to avoid my favorite room because the Dark Lord wants to make me full of fear. I'm avoiding my outfit from that day, but that's different; I just happened to be in this room, he could have done it anywhere, but my outfit, along with my dancing in it, is what turned him on in the first place.

Just as I started to actually get into the movie, Draco walked into the living room and in front of the TV. He looked rather depressed as he asked me, "Would you like to go on a walk? It's a nice day outside."

I shrugged and got up. "Sure, will you move over a bit so I can turn off the TV?"

He looked behind him at the TV for a second before moving to the side. I pressed the off button on the remote, and then placed the remote on top of the coffee table. "Where are we going to walk to?" I asked with a quiet voice while I put my hands in the front pockets of my red, tube top and shorts, romper.

"We could walk around your property, have you explored it yet?"

"No, I haven't."

Draco flashed me a friendly, but fake smile. We walked to my backyard in complete silence, sometimes he caught me checking him out from the corners of my eyes, and sometimes I catch him. We stared to walk towards a hill before Draco stopped walking for a minute, "Do you want to go on a flatter trail?"

I looked down at my shoes; I'm wearing a pair of black, strapy, sandals. "Yea, I don't want to ruin my shoes. Would you like to walk around our pond, or something?"

"Sure," Draco started to walk closer to me; we walked in silence for about ten minutes before he walked over to a knoll by the pond. He sat down on the grass and looked out at the pond. He made eye contact with me, and then patted the ground to his left. I walked over to where he indicated, and I sat down, too. Draco practically whispered, "Neema,"

I brought my knees into my chest, leaned against them, and wrapped my arms around my knees. I turned my head to face him, "Draco,"

A small smile crept onto his face, not one out of happiness, but one that shows that he cares. "I'm sorry for what happened at my house."

I drew in a deep breath before replying, "Me too."

"And I'm sorry about…. you know."

"Yeah," I nodded and rested my gaze on the grass between us, "me too."

Draco moved a loose curl from my face to behind my right ear. "I have some bad news for you."

I gulped and looked up at him, "Will you do me a favor before you tell me?"

Draco shrugged, "Yea—Yeah, sure. What?"

I bit my bottom lip for a minute before saying, "Will you… will you put an arm around me? I just feel so… vulnerable, I would appreciate the comfort."

Draco nodded, scooted closer to me, and then wrapped his left arm around my shoulders. "So…" he breathed out, "your dad stopped by today."

I gulped.

"And he dropped off that potion to Voldemort."

"Before you continue," I looked up into his icy, grey eyes, "will you please tell me what the potion is, exactly?"

Draco nodded up and down, and then moved his arm from my shoulders to around my waist. He held me slightly tighter before saying, "It's supposed to give him his youth back. In the sense of appearance," Draco chuckled before continuing, "I remember that during the summer of last year he threw a huge fit over his features. He screamed about how ugly his snake like features are, and how he wants to look like his younger self again. It was pretty funny; who would have thought that the Dark Lord was concerned about being good looking?"

I shrugged and snuggled a bit closer to Draco; he either didn't notice, or didn't mind.

"Anyway," he sighed, "he drank the potion this morning; at first I thought your dad tried to poison him the way he was withering and screaming—"

I laughed, "Good! I'm glad he's suffering."

"But…" Draco held me tighter, "he got up off of the floor about an hour ago, and now he looks like his younger self again… and I'm pretty sure he's in your father's den right now, with, you know, your father."

I groaned and rested my head on my knees. "Why, Draco?"

"Why, what?"

"Why me? Of all the women he could have picked, he picked me. Why?"

"I… I don't know—"

"And why," I started to cry, "why are you being so nice to me all of the sudden? You've been so mean to me for what, six years? And now you have a sudden change of heart? This isn't like you at all."

Draco sighed, "I don't think you need my cruelty right now, not during all of this."

I stayed silent.

Draco smirked while looking down at me, "I promise I'll start being mean to you once we're at Hogwarts again."

I laughed while wiping some of my tears off of my face, "That'd be nice."

Now Draco laughed. We sat there for about twenty more minutes; I ended up resting my head against his shoulder while he held me tightly to him. I never really realized before today, but Draco has really grown up. His jaw line is so, so masculine now. Not that he ever had a feminine face, but now, his face is the face of mans. His shoulders have become broader, and he's obviously been exercising; his arms are muscular, and if I remember correctly, he's developing abs. I slowly ran my eyes up and down his body, his black pants and green shirt fit him well; his pants were somewhat tight, not so tight that he could be mocked, but tight enough to make me want to stare. His Slytherin green, short sleeve shirt is somewhat baggy, but it still fits him well. I then looked up at his face; his features were pretty nice. His nose is straight, his lips are a little on the thin side, but still cute. His eyes are an icy blue, and his hair is short and very blonde.

Draco turned his head and looked at me. Smirking, he said, "Were you just checking me out?"

I blushed and looked at my knees. I whispered, "Yes."

Draco put his right hand on my left cheek and gently turned my head so that I'm looking up at him, "I'm flattered," he chuckled, "really."

I smiled, "Good. Not too many boys have been appreciated by my eyes." My smile turned into a playful smirk, "I don't usually look at white boys, you know. I prefer my men as dark as me, if not more."

Draco laughed and gently brushed some of my loose curls out of my face. "First of all, you're not that dark, you're olive, and you tanned a bit."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

He sighed and said, "You're probably sick of hearing it, but you're very pretty, beautiful, really."

Before I could reply, Draco slowly stood up. Once up, he offered me his right hand. I grabbed a hold of it and stood up, too. He pulled me up, almost sending me into his chest, not that I would have minded. I'd like the feeling, but not for sexual reasons. Ever since Voldemort rapped me, I've wanted a male protector outside of my family members, someone else who would care about me. "We need to go back to your home, now."

"Why?" I asked while letting go of his hand.

"We've been out here for a little over an hour, and I didn't tell anyone that I was borrowing you. Your parents are probably very worried."

"Oh." I sighed. We walked back to my house in silence; when we reached the back door, I told Draco, "Since Voldemort is here, I'm going to go blaze. Feel free to join or leave."

Draco raised his right eyebrow, "Blaze?"

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, "I'm going to go smoke."

As I started to walk to my room, Draco said, "Smoke what?"

I looked at him over my shoulder, "Come and find out." Before he had the chance to ask any more questions, I ran to the main hallway on the first floor, up the stairs, and then up to my room. Draco ran in about a minute after me; I put the "no stank, thanks!" spell on me, my room, and then on him. I told him to lock my door and open the window like doors that lead to my balcony. As he did this, I took out my pipe – Drea gave me one – and packed my bowl. I sat down on my bed, emptied my lungs, put the pipe to my lips, and then lit my pipe with my wand. I took a few hits, told Draco that he shouldn't have any, at least this time, because I need someone who can still function properly. After I took my last hit, I laid down for about ten or twelve minutes, and then put all of my things away. I stumbled to my door; I would have run into it if Draco didn't wrap his left arm around me. He walked me down stairs to the kitchen so I can grab some Wheat Things, and then to my Dad's den.

"Why are we going here?" I asked, with a mouth full of crackers.

I didn't get an answer; instead, I got an apology. Draco told me that he's sorry while he walked me into the den. I smiled at my dad, I was about to strike up a conversation with my dad, but then I saw a tall, lean figure standing near him. The man next to him is extremely handsome, to say the least. He's around six foot two; he has broad shoulders, a strong jaw line, high cheekbones, thin lips, a straight nose, short, dark brown hair, and dark brown eyes. He's pale, but that didn't take away from his appearance. He looked over at my father and started to talk to him, but I wasn't paying attention to their conversation. I was busy with checking him out and wondering how he looked without his clothes. I pondered if he has any muscle definition, then I guessed at the size of his penis; obviously, my sexual thoughts took off from there.

"Neema!" My dad shouted.

I jumped a bit and looked at my father, "Wha—what?"

My dad walked over to me, sighed. He put his hands on my shoulders and said, "You have a visitor; Draco and I are going to leave the room. But we'll be just across the hall, in the kitchen, okay? I'm going to leave the door slightly ajar," his eyes filled with concern, "yell for me if you need _anything_. Okay?"

I drew in a deep breath, "Yeah, okay."

My father gulped and walked out of the door, with a nervous Draco right behind him. I sat down on the desk behind me and continued to snack away at the Wheat Thins that I brought with me. I watched as the mystery man walked over to the door, shut it all the way, and then locked it. He smiled at me and said, "How are you?"

I shrugged, swallowed the Wheat Thins in my mouth, and replied, "I'm alright, you?"

"I'm… well." He walked in front of me; there's about four feet of space between us. With a powerful, but velvety voice, the man said, "Your father told me of his concern for you."

I raised my right eyebrow.

The man crossed his arms onto his chest, "He says that you've started to smoke marijuana."

"What can I say?" I shrugged and closed the box of Wheat Things. While setting it aside, I continued speaking, "I'm sixteen years old and my life has taken a sudden awful turn. When else am I supposed to try these things out?"

The man shrugged and made the space between us two feet. I checked him out again before he asked me, "Are you high now?"

I pressed my right index finger against my lips and said, "Shush."

The man smirked, "I'll take that as a yes."

I shrugged and sighed. I looked up into his dark brown eyes and asked, "Who are you?"

He gasped, as if he were offended. "You don't recognize me?"

I leaned a little bit away from him, "I've never seen you before."

Before I could register anything, or even blink, he made the distance between us about six inches. He put his hands on my knees, pulled my legs slightly apart, and stood in between them. He gently put his left hand a few inches above my right knee, and he held my chin in his right hand. He started to say something, but then my fathers stereo system caught his eye. He backed up a bit, and then walked over to it. He chuckled out, "I see your father has invested in a mood reader."

I gulped and shrugged.

"Stretch our your hand," the man said and slid the hand pad over to me. I blushed and slowly stuck out my hand. He put his right hand over mine and led it to the hand pad; he slowly placed it on the pad. Almost immediately, the song "Freak Like Me" by Adina Howard started to play. I blushed and pulled my hand away from it and him. He smirked and walked back over to me. He once again, quickly spread my legs and stood in between them. He put his hands on my lower back and scooted me closer to him. He put his lips near my left ear and whispered, "Quite an interesting song… I'm flattered."

I blushed and leaned a way from him. He had his left hand on my right thigh, and his right hand on my chin.

"Think very hard," he purred, "you know who I am."

I drew in a deep breath; my high is starting to fade. "I… I don't remember ever seeing you." He gave me useless, vague hints throughout the length of the song. I blush and stuttered most of the time; when my song stopped, he put his left hand on the hand pad, "Ignition (Remix)" by R. Kelly started to play. He did his best to lock eyes with me, but I blushed and kept moving my head.

"Why are you avoiding my gaze?" He tenderly whispered.

* * *

Nasier was pacing back and forth from the fridge to the sink. He ran his hands through his hair quite a few times; if his hands weren't in his hair, he was clenching his fists. "Can you hear that song?"

I strained my ears, "Faintly."

"He's seducing her! He's trying to seduce my daughter in my own damn den!"

I ran my hands up my face and into my hair while leaning against the counter. Before I could say anything, Nasier shouted,

"_I'm about to have me some fun! Girl we're off in this G! … Bouncin' up and down, stroke it 'round and 'round!_ How am I supposed to take that, Draco?"

"I don't know, I, I really don't –"

"With disgust!" He screamed while turning to face me. "She got high to…to what, to what?"

I drew in a deep breath, "She was afraid, she's been afraid, this is her way of dealing with the pain."

Nasier screamed and stomped his right foot once. He leaned against the sink and pulled on his brown hair, "She got high, forgot who you told her is here, and is now being seduced."

I stayed silent.

He let out a pain filled sigh, "I am her father, I am supposed to protect her, but I can't. If I try anything, he'll either torture me, or kill me. Either way, things will just get worse."

We made eye contact for a moment; apparently my eyes don't comfort him like they comfort Neema.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," he sighed, "but the best option is just to let him have her." He put a hand on his stomach and started to turn a very faint shade of green. "I try to stop him and he'll torture me, and he'll probably torture her more to punish me."

He turned and puked in the sink. "Nasier…"

He stopped puking for a minute, tried to stand up straight, but immediately started to puke again.

I walked over to him and did my best to hold him up so he can still puke in the sink, instead of on the floor or on him. "Neema understands your predicament, she understands more than you know."

I shuddered, but my words seemed to calm him down a bit. Now, instead of puking, he's just loudly panting in the sink.

"Neema is smart, and she is strong. Whatever happens, you will be there to help her get past it."

Nasier nodded in agreement, slowly stood up straight, and put a cleansing spell on himself, and then a cleaning spell at his sink. His puke breath disappeared, and so did the puke in the sink. I wondered where these things go, but I didn't get a lot of time to think about it. He turned to face me, "Draco,"

"Yes, sir?"

"Will you promise me that when you go back to Hogwarts, you'll be there for Neema?"

"What?"

"Please," He looked desperate, "no one outside of my family and, well I guess the Death Eaters," a pained chuckle left his lips, "can know about this." He put his hands on my shoulders and lightly squeezed while looking me in the eyes. "I need to know that while she's at Hogwarts, she'll have someone to turn to. I need to know that she's going to have at least one place to go."

I took a minute before replying, "I… of course, sir."

He withdrew his hands from my shoulders and crossed his arms on his chest the same way Neema does. He gulped and said, "Thank you, Draco."

"Sir,"

He looked back into my eyes; I could see his tears and felt a bit of my own heart break. "Yes, Draco?"

I drew in a deep breath before asking, "May I spend time with her during this summer?"

He looked taken aback, "Of course." A small smile started to form on his face, "I'd… I'd appreciate that, Draco, and I'm sure that Neema would like that, too."

* * *

He lightly brushed a loose curl from the side of my face to behind my ear. He put his hands on my back and pulled me against him; I gasped as he erection rubbed through the thin fabric of my romper and against me. He chuckled and gently pressed his lips to the middle of my neck; his left hand ran up and down my back, going slower when he found the slight dip, sighing as he felt it. I put my hands against his chest and tried to push him away, but he's much stronger than I am. On the plus side, I could feel how lean his body against through the thin fabric of his black shirt; it felt like he too had some developing abs.

"I'm—I'm sorry," I sighed as he nipped at my earlobe, "But I, I don't know you. I can't do this."

He rubbed his erection against me again and sighed, "What if we went up to your room, would it make a difference if we were out of the den?"

I laughed and tried to push him away again, but I couldn't, so I leaned away. I looked back up into his eyes and gasped as he started to rhythmically rub his erection against me. "Oh—Yes, it'd help if—auuh—we were in a diff—ah!" I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip for a moment before continuing. I opened my eyes to find him smirking down at me. I rushed out, "In a different room! Not the den!"

He started to rub against my faster, taking pleasure from my gasps and fluttering eyes. "Is it just the room, or do you not find me attractive?"

"Oh God," I sighed. He took this opportunity to start kissing my neck again. His lips found the weak spot on my neck, causing me to moan and slam my right hand out from my side. It landed on the hand pad, causing "Rude Boy" by Rihanna to start playing. I chuckled, moaned, and then replied, "I find you very attractive."

He started to press his erection against me harder. He smirked at the lyrics, "I think I'm big enough."

I moaned as he started to dry hump me. "I think so, too."

He smirked against my skin as he started to kiss and nip at my neck. I wiggled my hips from the feeling of his lips on my neck, his erection against me, and his hands slowly running up and down my sides.

My enjoyment of "Rude Boy" was ruined when I realized what was happening. I pushed my hands against his chest, "Stop it. Stop it, please."

He stopped kissing my neck and slowed down his grinding. He looked into my eyes and asked, "Why? You know who I am."

I rolled my eyes, "That hardly counts, being how I don't _remember_ who you are."

He smirked and took his hands off my body, but placed them outside of my legs, trapping me. "You still know me, though."

I looked around and remembered our setting, "Oh gross. We're in my dad's den. Even if I remembered who you are, I'd _never_ do it in here."

"Never?" His smirk widened.

"Never, ever."

"I suppose we could go somewhere else, then."

"Once I remember who you are, and if I liked you, then we'll talk." I tried to push him away, but again, to no avail.

He chuckled and held my chin in his right hand again. "We don't really need to talk to—"

"Whatever," I angrily sighed, "I don't remember you, and your clues were useless to me. Let me go."

The hold he had on my chin forced me to stare into his dark brown eyes. A smirk started to form on his lips as "Magic Stick" by Lil' Kim started to play. He started to grind me again; I fought back my moans as he whispered, "Here's a better clue then," he put his lips near my left ear, "_You can fall in love, you can call your mama right now and tell her you met a Dark Lord._"

I gasped, but not out of pleasure. I did my best to scoot away from him and push him away from me, but I didn't really get anywhere. "Get away from me!" I screamed.

"Why?" He laughed, "You find me attractive, you like the way I feel when I rub against you."

I started screaming for my father, but he slapped me.

Glaring at me, he told me in a low, threatening voice, "Don't call him in here."

I gulped and started to shake and cry again.

* * *

"Did you hear something?" Nasier looked over at me.

I strained my ears again, but all I could hear was a song and some shuffling. "Just some movement."

Nasier shuddered, "I think she yelled for me. Did you hear it?"

I thought for a minute before responding, "I think so."

Nasier walked back to his den and knocked on the door; he had a mixture of pure hatred and concern on his face.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, please don't read all the scenes about getting high and think it's a good idea. I have Neema smoking because she's using it as a way to get through her pain. Don't do anything that has the potential to really mess you up - in a bad way - and is illegal, if you live in a place where such activities are illegal. On a happier note, please review, it makes me happy to see reviews on my stories. Especially new ones that I'm putting all my writing time into, like this one. :)**


	7. Hit Me Like a Ray of Sun

**Chapter Seven: Hit Me Like a Ray of Sun**

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**A/N: When I started this story, it was pretty late at night, long story short, I messed up my math of what age the kids are in when they're in certain years at Hogwarts. So now Neema and Draco are sixteen, but going into sixth year. I know that's wrong, but just go with it, okay? Thanks.**

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My father knocked on the door, "Neema, do you need anything?"

Voldemort's eyes showed his anger. He hissed, "Don't ask him to come in here—"

If I told my dad that I needed anything, Voldemort would brutally punish us. Out of the corner of my right eye, I could see that the hand pad was near me.

My father said a little bit louder than before, "Neema?"

I slammed my hand down on the hand pad, "Heartbreaker" by Pat Benatar immediately started to play. For the first thirty or forty seconds I think my father thought that I played the song in order to get rid of him, but then I started to shakily sing, well, sort of shout, along. "You're a heartbreaker! Dream maker! Love taker! DON'T YOU MESS AROUND WITH ME!"

My father immediately tried to open the door, but Voldemort locked it. Without any hesitance, my father unlocked it with a spell and strode into his den. "Did you need something, Neema?" He clenched his fists when he saw that Voldemort had me trapped; I was on a desk, between a wall and Voldemort. He eyed how Voldemort had his arms placed near me, forcing me to stay close to him. When he saw that my hands are on Voldemort's chest, he gulped, but not out of fear, out of disgust. His little girl was trying to fight the Dark Lord, her "potential" rapist away, and he wasn't here for her.

Voldemort sighed, rolled his eyes, and said, "Well, if you want your father here, fine. I won't question what you're into."

Anger and confusion dominated my face, "Wha—?"

Voldemort roughly pressed his lips against mine. My eyes grew from shock; I pounded my fists against his chest, but he quickly grabbed my hands and slammed them down on the table. I bit his bottom lip very hard, I think I drew blood; Voldemort pulled away, slapped me across the face, and smirked as a pain filled scream came from me. He quickly started to kiss my neck on the weak spots. To my horror, a moan slipped from my mouth.

Before Voldemort could get any farther, my dad placed his hands under my arms, and he quickly pulled me off of the table. He practically shoved me into Draco's chest, and then protectively stood in front of me. He jaw was almost locked, and his teeth were clenched when he huskily said, "That is enough for one day."

Voldemort laughed evilly and stood up straight, lazily fixing his clothes. "Who are you to tell _me_ what's enough?"

"I am her father! As far as anything concerns Neema, I have the right to say when something is enough."

Voldemort and my dad locked gazes; they were in a stare down. "Alright, fair enough…" Voldemort sighed, but then quickly pulled out his wand and pointed it at my father.

My father was scared about what could happen to him, but he loves me more than he fears Voldemort. Seeing that made me cry; Voldemort opened his mouth to start a curse, but I broke free from Draco's grip and punched Voldemort's jaw. He dropped his wand, and my father dropped his jaw. He stumbled backwards a few feet, put his hand on his now bruised jaw, and then slammed me against the wall. He had his right hand on my throat, making breathing extremely hard.

He hissed, "How…dare….you—"

As loud as I could, I cut him off, "This has nothing to do with my father."

Voldemort drew in a deep breath, he was about to start yelling at me, but then he loosened his grip on my throat and smirked. He moved his hand from my throat to my left hand. He grabbed a hold if it and then placed it against his erection, "You moaned because of this," he hissed.

I cringed, but couldn't move anywhere.

His smirk widened and his eyes had a demented look about them, "You want this; admit it, you're just a slut."

I would not be treated like this, not in front of my father. I squeezed my hand, he gasped in pain; he pulled my hair with his left hand, and slapped me very hard with his right.

"Get of here! Go to your room, you whore!" He shouted and pushed me out of the door. I ran smack into Draco and instantly started to sob on him; he squatted a little bit and picked me up. He held me tightly against his chest and gently rocked me back and forth while he walked up stairs to my room.

* * *

I've never felt so dirty in my life; I enjoyed the sex that was thrusted upon me, and then I thought he was attractive. And I didn't even stop there! I checked him out, and I even fantasized about him; I let him touch me in my father's den! I've been alternating between puking, crying, and sleeping for the last few days, and so has my father. My mother and my sister have been going on a lot of day trips; they didn't know how to help me, and they didn't want to add to the crying. They needed to go to other places and forget, at least for a few hours, that the horrors I've faced don't exist in this world. I don't blame them, and I'm not angry at them, to tell you the truth, I'm glad they're gone so long. It's not that I don't like to be around them; it's just that they continuously want to console me, but I just want to forget that anything ever happened. My mother tries to make me feel safe, but my sister and I know that the worst of it all has happened in my own home. There's no where that I'm safe; the only place I might be safe is at Hogwarts in a few months, and even then, sometimes I hear that Voldemort is going to have his goons break into Hogwarts. The times that I've listened in on Death Eater conversations, it's been about using Draco to connect some vanishing cabinets so that Hogwarts can be infiltrated.

It's been two days since I've last ate – I just keep barfing it back out, I can't even function on the regular level of needs anymore. I groaned and rolled myself off of my bed. I landed in a push-up position and stayed like that for thirty seconds before I pushed myself up onto my feet. I slowly walked out of my room, down the stairs, and into my kitchen. I took my wand out of my sports bra and transfigured the broken toaster – it fell off of the counter yesterday – into a stereo system. It wasn't an impressive stereo system, but I want to be able to focus on something besides my thoughts. I turned on some Andre Nickatina and started to lightly bob my head along with the beat of "Soul of a Coke Dealer." I heard some people slam the front door closed, so I turned the music up. I don't care who's coming in anymore. There's nothing left to take from me; he's taken my dignity, my feeling of security, he's ripping my family apart, and he's destroyed all of my happiness. On top of that, he's messing with my mind – maybe they're just nightmares, but I wouldn't put it above him to mess with me even in my sleep – and he's taken away my favorite jeans and shirt, my favorite dress, and my favorite romper. Maybe he's trying to get me to walk around naked for the rest of my life, I don't know.

I started to hum along with the song as someone walked into the kitchen. I looked up from the fridge and saw my dad, Rodolphus, Draco, and the now youthful Voldemort in my kitchen. They all looked pained, except for Voldemort, that asshole. My dad drew in a deep breath, but I cut him off with a lyric before he could start talking. "_You should've seen they face when I paid my bail_," I waved the peanut butter and jam around, "_it was the look of the Devil that's gonn send me to Hell_."

Draco fought back a chuckle as my father flicked his wand downwards to turn down the volume. He looked at me again, this time a little more seriously. Again, I cut him off with a lyric, "_Cu-cu-cu-cut me down Nicky, it make me wanna shiver,_" I looked at Voldemort, "_the lost soul of a coke dealer._"

I walked over to where we keep our bread, took out two slices of sandwich bread, and walked back to the island in the middle of the kitchen. I opened the jars and took out a butter knife from the drawer behind me. My father sighed, "Neema,"

I started to spread some strawberry jam on one of the pieces of bread, "Yeah?"

To my embarrassment, "Nicky's (Strip Club)" started to play; I blushed as my father's eyes flickered over to the speaker. "Why do you listen to this shit? I thought you were a feminist, anyway."

"I am a feminist, but Nickatina ain't talkin' bout me. He's talkin' 'bout strippers; I'm not a stripper, and the beat is catchy. To tell you the truth, the lyrics are catchy, too."

My dad sighed and shook his head, "Whatever."

I looked over at him and made eye contact, "What'd you come in here for, old man?"

He laughed, "I'm forty-two, I'd hardly call that old."

I laughed, too, and spread some creamy peanut butter on the other slice of bread. After I put a sufficient amount of peanut butter on my slice of bread, I put the two slices together. I gently tore off the crust and walked over to the trashcan. I put my foot down on the "open me" pedal and dropped the crust into the can.

My dad sighed, "Anyway, we're going to need the house until the evening…"

"So you want me to leave?" I asked after swallowing the little bit of sandwich that was in my mouth.

My dad smiled, "Yeah, the floo networks are down, and you can't apperate yet…"

My eyes widened with hope, "Are you going to let me drive into town?"

My dad smiled and tossed a set of keys to me. I caught them with my left hand and smiled. "Yes, but be safe,"

"I will," I examined the keys, "are these the keys to the Maybach?"

"Yes, so be especially safe. You know I love that car."

I laughed, "I know, dad, I know that you're pretty fond of the car." Ever since he bought the thing, he barely let people into it, he's never let anyone drive it but himself. I squeezed the keys in my left hand, switched them to my right hand, and squeezed them again. I must have had a crazed look in my eyes, because he started to laugh very hard. "What?"

My dad stopped laughing for a minute, "You look like me when you do that."

I laughed too, "So I look totally crazy right now?"

My dad walked over to me, hugged me tightly and said, "Yes." Then, in a much quieter voice, I could barely hear him, he said, "Don't come back until it's dark. Have a good time, but be safe." He slipped his debit card into my free hand and he said back in his regular voice, "Don't use _too_ much," he winked playfully and continued, "but still, have a good time."

I hugged him tightly before he let me go and told me to go take a shower. I laughed and said okay.

* * *

I washed my body and hair twice before getting out of the shower. I went through my hair routine, dried it, and then got dressed. I decided to wear a pair of black, skinny Dickies; I tossed on a white T-shirt with a large red flower on it, and found my white, slip on Vans. I decided that I should wear some make-up; my two days of no food, crying, and puking has taken a toll on the clearness of my skin. I put on my primer, foundation, and then some setting powder. I put on a light shade of blush, and then applied some make-up to my eyes. I put on my brown eyeliner in the style of cat eye, and then I put on some brownish-gold shadow. I sighed and twirled some hair around my index fingers. I found some hairspray from under my bathroom sink; twenty minutes later, my hair is up in a loose, curly bun. Satisfied with what I've done, I grabbed my wand and my iPod and ran downstairs. I turned a corner and ran smack into Draco's chest; I took a step back and mumbled out an apology.

"It's okay," he whispered as his eyes quickly ran up and down my body.

I shifted my weight to my left leg, "So… Do you want to go into town with me?"

"In the Maybach?" He laughed. "Your dad loves that car like it's his first born."

Now I laughed.

"Of course I want to take a ride in the Maybach, bu—"

Before Draco had a chance to protest in anyway, I grabbed a hold of his right hand and ran into the living room. I knocked on the door-less frame before poking my head in. "Hey dad," I said with a smile.

He drew in a deep, troubled breath, "Yes, Neemie?"

I rushed out, "May I take Draco with me?"

"I…"

I pouted my lips a bit and did a slight lean so that I can be more in the room. In a quiet voice, I said, "Please, dad?"

He was about to say something, but I cut him off.

"He's clean, we won't make your car dirty or anything. And I'd be safe with him." I pulled Draco into the room with my left hand and pointed to his bicep with my right hand. "See? Safe."

My dad laughed and situated himself on his favorite armchair, thankfully, not the one Voldemort used just a few weeks before. "Alright, but…" He looked at Draco intesnely, "boy you do _anything_ to mess with my car, I'll –"

I laughed.

My dad looked over at me, "What?"

"With your _car_, not your daughter?"

He rolled his eyes, "My daughter can defend herself, my car cannot." He sighed and did a shooing motion with his right hand. "Now go."

I didn't have to be told twice. Still holding onto Draco's hand, I sprinted to the garage, and then I sprinted to the special section of the garage to where the black Maybach is. Draco whistled as I unlocked the door, "This is a _really_ nice car."

"I know," I giggled and carefully got in it; once seated, I moved the seat forward about a foot and adjusted the steering wheel to a comfortable height. Draco carefully sat in the car, closed the door, and scooted the seat back. He looked around while putting on his seat belt; his eyes widened as he saw the panoramic glass on the ceiling of the car, when I turned the car on, the glass became transparent. I pressed a button by the rearview mirror so that the garage door opened. I put the car from park to reverse and slowly drove out of the garage. Draco looked at all the dashboard features, then all the technology between him and me. I told him to plug my iPod in; with some confusion, he did so. Almost immediately, the song "Got Your Back" by T.I. and Keri Hilson started to play. I started to tap my fingers along with the song and hummed.

Draco looked at me and said, "You can sing along, if you want to."

I smiled and started to sing along, "When you high, when you low…" Draco started to tap his fingers on the wood by the door handle by mid-song. I eased the car to a stop once we were about ten miles from our homes. I looked at him and said, "We can turn left, or we can turn right. Where do you want to go?"

Draco smiled and relaxed a bit by leaning back into the passenger seat. "Lets go right."

I smiled and said, "OK, right it is." I waited for a couple of fast cars to pass us before I started to drive on the right road. I picked up speed as we drove closer to the highway; I gripped the wheel a little bit harder than usual and took a quick look over my shoulder as I started to merge onto the highway. I sped up to about sixty-five miles an hour and merged into the lane to my left, the middle lane. I asked Draco, "Will you put that song back on?"

"Sure… how?"

I laughed and told him to press the button towards the bottom of my iPod. Then I told him to slide the arrow across the screen to unlock it; he understood how to work it form there. After about a minute of the song playing, the chorus started to play again. To my surprise, Draco smiled, kept his thumb up and pointed his index finger on his left hand, pointed it at me, and started to move it up and down to match the beat and lyrics. "_When you high, when you low, when I promise I will never letchya go. Said I got I got I got I gotchya back, giirrrrl_!"

I laughed and sped up to seventy-two miles an hour. "_Keep my swagger, keep it lookin' good for ya, keep it lookin' hood for ya!_"

Now Draco laughed and rested back into his seat. His smile was glued to his face as he stared at me for a minute or so. I focused on the road, but occasionally looked at him in my peripheral. We cracked jokes and talked about our possible summer plans for the rest of the drive, occasionally singing along to whatever song was on at the moment.

* * *

After about an hour of driving, we made it into town. I asked him if he wanted to do anything specific, or if he wanted to go shopping with me. He decided that going shopping with me would be a sufficient source of entertainment for the afternoon. I smiled and followed Draco's directions to the best stores in town; he told me that if we drove half an hour more we'd find a whole block of just clothing stores. Of course I needed to check that out. When we got there, I parked in a near by parking garage. There is no way that I'd ever consider parking the Maybach on the street when I can go to a private parking garage.

The first store we went to was one I've never been in; there is _sooooo _many clothes and shoes! I almost died when I realized that many of the clothes here are based off of American, Armenian, French, and Greek styles. I bought a lot of summer dresses, graphic tees, pretty tank tops, and a lot of skirts, shorts, and jeans. I bought _many_ pairs of new shoes and then walked out of the store. Draco carried most of my many bags, forcing him to flex; I looked at his arm muscles hard at work and then looked back up at his face. He playfully winked at me; when we started to walk towards a rather secluded area, he put the bags down with a sigh of relief. I took my wand out and mumbled a spell so that all of my bags are now in the magically enlarged trunk of the Maybach.

As we started to walk to the next store, Draco gently grabbed a hold of my left hand with his right one. I looked down at it, then back up at him. He looked at me and slightly blushed and said rather defensively, "I just don't like the way these guys are looking at you, okay?"

I smirked and said, "Okay, okay. Whatever you say."

Draco smirked down at me in a rather flirtatious manner, "Yes, whatever _I_ say."

I rolled my eyes and walked us into the next store that caught my eye. Predictably, it was a hair store. Draco looked pretty bored, but, surprisingly, he wasn't rude and he didn't try to rush me. I got the attention of one of the young women who worked at the store and talked about the best hair sprays, the best brushes, and the cutest hair accessories. Draco was looking at odd hair colors as I paid for the accessories I picked, and for the hairspray I decided was worth a try.

The redhead looked at Draco, and then back at me, "Is he your boyfriend?"

I blushed and stuttered, "Wha—? Him. No, no, we're just friends."

She smiled, "Mmmhhm, _just friends_, that looks about right."

She laughed genuinely, and I laughed awkwardly. We walked out of the store rather close, but not holding hands. I asked Draco if he would mind if we went to the store across the street, Lost Hawks. I told him that it's my favorite store, so I'll probably be in there a while; he seemed a bit hesitant, but he decided to accompany nonetheless. When we walked in Draco drew in a deep breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, "this is just a big place."

I smiled and said, "I know…but hey, if it'd make your time better, I can model the clothes I pick out when I go to the dressing room."

Draco laughed and smiled flirtatiously, "Alright, that sounds okay."

He walked about a foot behind me at all times, which led him to holding a lot of the clothes that I want to try on. I picked out a lot of unusual patterned shirts and dresses, and I decided to invest in some new pairs of distressed jeans. With a smirk, he followed me to the dressing rooms. When we got there, I took my clothing from his arms and told him to sit down in one of the chairs. After he situated himself, I walked into the dressing room closest to his chair. Every time I walked out, I did a slow three hundred and sixty degree turn for him, after about the fourth dress, I said, "You're not being very helpful."

"Oh?" He raised his right brow, "How am I being not helpful?"

"Well," I sighed, "you keep telling me that everything looks good—"

"Hey!" He laughed and put his hands out in a somewhat defensive manner, "It's not my fault that these clothes look great on you."

I blushed and smiled, "Alright, you're off the hook…for now." I playfully winked and walked back into my dressing room. It didn't take me too long to model everything for him, but once I got to the pair of distressed jeans that I really liked, I took my time putting them on and asking him about them.

Draco looked slightly caught off guard, "Are you sure you want to buy a pair of jeans so similar…"

"I know," I sighed, "I know, but these are cute, and, as you can imagine, I can't bring myself to wear the other pair…"

"Well," Draco sat up straight and put his hands behind his head, "they look nice. They…fit you nice, you know?"

I decided to try to start a little bit of trouble. "Where do they fit nicely?" I asked and turned in a full circle.

"Your whole—"

"Where does it fit the best, though?"

"If you really want to know—"

"Yes, yes." I smirked.

"It hugs your arse just right; you have a big arse, and these pants make it look fantastic without trying to hide its size."

I blushed and laughed, "Thanks?"

Draco chuckled and got up. While he collected the clothing that I want to buy, he blushed a bit and said, "You're welcome."

Just to make things a bit more fun, I gave him a surprise kiss on the cheek closest to me. He blushed a deeper shade of red, but didn't say anything.

* * *

When we got back to the Maybach, I popped the trunk and Draco put in my bags. I thoroughly looked over it to make sure that there aren't any damages to it. Once I was done with my observation, Draco and I got into the car. He put my iPod back on as I drove out of the area and back onto the highway; we drove in silence for about forty minutes before he turned his head to the right to look at me. "Do you not want to go home yet?"

I smiled, "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "lets go to that meadow-ish area by our homes."

"Okay," I shrugged, "that sounds fine." I drove there with a lot of focus; I don't know the road all that well, it's dark, and I am in the Maybach. However, we did get their smoothly; once we got there, I put the car into park, turned it almost off so that the car wouldn't actually be running, and pressed the button that put the top down. Draco turned his head to watch as the park of the ceiling that wasn't connected to the glass, started to go down like a convertible.

"Jesus," he sighed, "is there anything that this car _doesn't_ do?"

"A few things," I chuckled, "but not much."

Draco laughed and followed my lead; I got out of the front of the car and into the back. I rested my head against the headrest and looked up at the beautiful night sky. I drew in a deep breath; I've been craving the sweet, sweet feeling of the late night air. Draco slowly situated himself right next to me; I turned my head to the left to look at him. "Draco,"

"Yes?" He replied with a soft voice while turning his head to look at me.

I moved his right arm so that it'd be out of my way as I scooted against his body. I rested my head on the lower part of his shoulder and whispered, "Thanks for the fun day, I really needed."

"I know," he whispered back while slowly and gently wrapping his right arm around my waist, "it was fun for me, too."

I smiled and looked back up at the dark, starry sky. We sat in silence, just looking at the stars and listening to the music that he kept on. He eventually pulled me closer to him and occasionally played with the loose hairs on the top of my neck. I snuggled myself closer to him and breathed him in; everything about him makes me feel safe, his semi-muscular body, his large hands, his height, his masculine jaw line, his deep voice, his strong, but still good scent, and his icy, almost grey, blue eyes. Draco tapped his fingers rhythmically up my back and neck; he gently pulled the bobby pins out of my hair and watched as my hair slowly fell to my shoulder blades. The light from the moon highlighted the natural golden streaks in my dark brown hair. He gently intertwined his fingers in my hair to play with my curls. After a few minutes of staring down at me and playing with my hair, he leaned his head down and softly kissed the top of my head. He lingered an inch above my head for a minute; when "Halo" by Beyoncé started to play, I slowly moved my head so that I'm still resting on his shoulder, but now I'm looking up into his eyes. I stared into them, and he stared back down into mine.

"_Standing in the light of your halo… I got my angel now…"_

I gently placed my right hand on his left cheek and started to stroke it back and forth with my thumb. A small smile crept onto my face, and a small smile, along with a light shade of red, crept onto his.

"_It's like I've been awakened… Every rule I had you breakin'… It's the risk that I'm takin'… I ain't never gonna shut you out…"_

I slowly sat up a bit and leaned closer to him, but I stopped once the tips of our noses was only two inches or so apart. He used the hand that's in my hair to slowly bring my lips to his.

"_Everywhere I'm looking now… I'm surrounded by your embrace… Baby I can see your halo…"_

Our eyes fluttered for a second before we closed them. His lips were soft and his motions were slow. We kissed for just a mere second before we pulled away, but we didn't pull back far. I listened to him breath for a few seconds before I slowly closed my eyes and gently pressed my lips against his.

"_You know you're my saving grace… You're everything I need and more… It's written all over your face… Baby I can feel your halo… Pray it won't fade away…"_

He turned his body a bit and wrapped his free arm around my waist, bringing me closer to his body. Our kissing gradually grew faster, but even at its absolute fastest, we were kissing pretty slowly. Even though his left hand had complete access to my whole upper body, he didn't go for anything. He slowly and caringly stroked my back, but he didn't try to feel me up. He didn't pull my hair, and he didn't try to kiss me anywhere but my lips.

"_I can feel your halo, halo, halo…"_

I don't know if this feeling is real, or if I'm just feeling this because of the recent horrors that I've faced. I don't know if Draco is feeling the same way I do, or if he's just a mixture of horny and tired. I don't know if this is going to last past the summer, or even last past the night. Hell, I don't know if this feeling will flee me the second our lips parted, but I do know that I want it to last for as long as possible. When our lips did part, I whispered, "Draco?"

His voice was soft as he drew in a deep breath, "Yes?"

"Will you… will you spend the night with me?"

He wasn't disgusted or taken aback, but he was a little bit confused, "What?"

"I didn't mean that sexually," I blushed, "but… Would you sleep in my bed with me tonight? We don't have to do anything sexual, in fact, I don't want to, not tonight, but… I would like to fall asleep next to you."

He smiled and kissed me again before answering, "I'd like that, too."

We slowly kissed for at least ten more minutes before we decided to head back to my house. When we got home I prayed that the sound of he garage door wouldn't wake up anyone. As I walked towards the door that leads back into the house, Draco pointed his wand at the trunk and said a spell so that all of my bags would be out of the trunk and in my walk-in closet. I took a hold of his right hand with my left, took my wand out and held it in my right hand, and quietly said, "Lumos." Draco did the same.

We quietly walked to through the kitchen, to the first floor hallway, up the stairs, down that hallway, and then into my room. Once there, I turned on the light and quickly, but quietly shut the door. I locked it so that my family would get the message to leave me alone if they had an urge to come in tonight or tomorrow morning. I went into my bathroom, quickly peed, and then washed my face of all my make-up. I quickly brushed my teeth, hoped that he enjoyed my smell, because I don't have time for a shower, and then walked out. The second I walked out of my bathroom I saw Draco sitting on my bed in only his Slytherin silver boxers. His hair is slightly messy, probably from taking off his clothes, and he's smiling at me. He's not smirking, he's smiling; yes, it is a small smile, but it's a genuine smile nonetheless.

I giggled and leaned against the wall behind me.

He chuckled and said, "Do you want me to put my clothes back on? I sleep in only my boxers, so—"

I cut him off, "It's okay." I winked and added, "I like you in just your boxers."

He laughed and then asked, "Is your room sound proof?"

I walked over to my laundry basket and laughed, "Why?" I imitated my fathers voice, "Are you getting ideas, young man?"

Draco bursted with laughter, "No, but…still, is it sound proof?

I sighed and rolled my eyes, "Yes, my room is sound proof. I put that spell on it the first day my family moved in."

Draco didn't reply, he just watched as I took off my shirt and bra, dropped them into my laundry basket, and then put on a baggy white T-shirt that I stole from Gaston the last time he was over. I took my shoes and socks off and gently placed them next to my laundry basket, and then I slowly slid my pants off; I heard Draco draw in a deep, deep breath. I smiled to myself and dropped my pants into my laundry basket. I walked over to Draco, I was blushing, and he was smiling.

I situated myself on the right side of my king sized bed and turned my head to the left. I smiled as Draco laid down on his right side to face me. He gently brushed some loose strands of hair out of my face as I snuggled up to him. He grabbed the covers from on top of our calves and pulled them up to our waists. I then snuggled even closer to him; after a few minutes, he laid down on his back so I could rest my head on his chest. Draco put his left arm under his head, wrapped his right arm around my waist, and then he mumbled a spell so that the lights would turn off.

I kissed his collarbone and stroked his chest with the fingers on my right hand. Draco moved a bit, and then gently cupped my face with his left hand. He slowly brought my face up to his and kissed me sweetly on the lips for a long time. Being how I need someone, and he needs someone, I can't tell if this is the beginning of a summer love, or real love, or if this is just a matter of convenience. But I do know that I'm in love with this feeling; he makes me feel safe and cared about. I don't know when this started, or if I just made it up throughout the course of our day, but I don't care, it making me feel good again.

As I drifted to sleep, I couldn't help but to remember, "_Everywhere I'm looking now… I'm surrounded by your embrace… Baby I can see your halo… You know you're my saving grace… You're everything I need and more… It's written all over your face… Baby I can feel your halo… Pray it won't fade away…._" As you can guess, I fell asleep with a large, genuine smile on my face.

* * *

**A/N: I tried to put a link to a Maybach down here, but Fanfiction won't allow it. . Oh well, it's worth the Google.**

**Also, please do keep in mind that this is England, and that the driver's side is on the right. Also, the minimum driving age is seventeen, but…. I don't care. It's just a story. Hah. Hah. :P**

**Oh, and I just read my new reviews; thank you so much for reviewing! I like writing and updating every night as long as when I check on my account the next day I have reviews. Reviews make my time worth it. C:**

**I thought I'd let it be known that I'm extremely jealous of whoever is going to the Harry Potter Theme Park; I've seen some commercials for the place and practically died with joy just seeing it. Obviously, I need to marry a rich man so that I can live a life filled with luxury and trips to the HP Theme Park.**


	8. Choke Chain

**Chapter 8: Choke Chain**

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* * *

**

I woke up with a small yawn and slowly stretched. My eyes fluttered open and immediately found Draco's grey-blue ones. I mumbled out, "How long have you been awake?"

He lightly shrugged and quietly answered me, "I dunno, 'bout half an hour."

I drew in a deep breath, "Why'd you stay?"

Draco chuckled nervously, "I didn't want to be rude."

I smiled and nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, "Good, I like it when boys have manners."

Draco smirked and wrapped his right arm around me, bringing me closer to him. We laid there in silence; I was listening to his heartbeat, and he was listening to my breathing. I was about to ask him if he wanted to go eat some breakfast, but then there was a knock on my door. I raised my right hand so that my wand would fly into it. Once I had my wand, I pointed it towards my door and unlocked it. "Come in," I yawned and looked at my door.

Drea swung it open, she was about to tell me something, but then she smirked, "Ahh… Draco spent the night, huh?" She raised and dropped her eyebrows a few times.

I laughed, "Yeah."

She leaned into my room a bit and gave us a suggestive look, "Did you two…?"

Draco fought back a laugh while I replied, "Oh yeah. All night."

Drea quickly caught my sarcasm and laughed. "I was just checking on you, you weren't here when I got home at one… so, you know, I was worried."

I smiled and slowly sat up. "I'm glad you care, Drea."

She smiled back and walked out of my room, closing the door behind her.

Draco sat up next to me, putting his left hand behind him and little bit to the left, and he put his right hand behind me. I turned my head to the left and looked him over; his hair is ruffled from moving in his sleep, his eyes are open, but only halfway, and his whole body is relaxed. I started to stare at his abs, "You have a 'V"?"

"A 'V'?" He laughed and raised his eyebrows.

"You know," I shrugged and looked at it, "that muscle by the abs, it like points down…"

"Oh," Draco laughed and looked down at his torso, "yeah, I guess so."

I smiled goofily, as if I were talking to my first crush for the first time.

Draco laughed at me and said, "What about you, huh, any abs?"

I shrugged, "Sort of, not in a manly way. Here," I lifted my baggy shirt to just under my breasts, "See?"

Draco frowned, but not in a bad way. It was his, "I can dig that" frown. He caught me off guard when he scooted over so that our hips are touching. He wrapped his right arm around me and felt my stomach; I blushed and looked down at his hand. I then touched his abs and mumbled, "I like yours better."

He laughed and looked back into my eyes, "I would hope so."

I laughed too, and then I got out of my bed. I walked over to my door and asked him, "Do you want to go have some breakfast? I could make us an omelet."

"Sure," He got up and started to walk over to his pants, but I used my wand to fling them away from him. He looked at me with a curious smirk.

I smirked back at him and walked out of my room, he followed me out in just his boxers. I could tell that he was uncomfortable with walking around my house in just his boxers, so I rushed back to my room and grabbed a hair tie. Once I was back in the hall I made eye contact with Draco, and then I twisted the extra fabric of my shirt to my right side, and put my hair tie around the twist. This way, we're almost equal in how much skin we're showing; I'm in a pair of small boy shorts, and a now tight shirt. I led him to the kitchen and told him to take a seat at the small, round table that's about twenty feet from the island (the kitchen, like every other room here, is huge). He silently watched me as I took out several eggs, took out a medium sized skillet, and sprayed some non-stick spray on it.

I put the skillet on the burner that I turned on, quickly chopped up some bell peppers, and tossed them into the skillet. Once they were almost done, I slid them out of the skillet and started to cook the eggs. Once the eggs were almost done, I put the vegetables back in and carefully flipped it into an omelet. I took out two plates and slid the omelet onto one of them. I took out two forks, and used mine to cut off a third of the large omelet. I then slid that piece onto my plate. I walked over to Draco and placed the large piece of omelet in front of him and handed him a fork. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Sure," he shrugged, "What do you have?"

I walked over to the fridge, "Obviously we have water," I scanned the shelves, "but we also have milk…and orange juice."

"I'd like some milk."

"Okay." I replied and took the milk and orange juice out. I walked over to the glass cabinet and took out a tall, but somewhat skinny glass out and filled it with milk, then I took out a matching glass and filled that with orange juice. I put back the cartoons of liquids, and walked back over to the table. I placed the milk glass in front of Draco and sat across from him.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked me, "Why are you eating such a small piece?"

"Do you exercise?" I mumbled.

"Yeah, obviously." He pointed to his abdomen.

"I exercise too, but you burn more calories than me."

"How do you figure?"

"Because," I looked him in his eyes, "you're a six foot three young man, who is building _and_ maintaining muscle. I, on the other hand, am a five foot four, young woman, who is mostly maintaining muscle."

Draco seemed satisfied with this answer; he eyed my plate and saw that I finished, "Well… are you going to eat anything else?"

"Yes." I got up, put my plate in the sink, and took out a bowl from the cabinet next to the one with the cups. I proceeded to put some cottage cheese in it, then some blueberries and açaí berries. I took my bowl and my fork back over to the table and sat back down.

He looked at my food and said, "You're a health nut."

"No, I'm not," I took a bite before continuing, "I just enjoy being a size eight instead of a size sixteen."

He raised his right eyebrow and leaned over the table a little bit, "When were you _ever_ a size sixteen?"

"Back in third year. Remember?"

Draco stayed silent.

"I wouldn't have cared so much if I was taller, but I'm only five foot four, so I looked three times as big as I really was."

"Oh," Draco sighed and looked me over, "You made a lot of progress in two years." He did his observation frown and added, "Half the size."

I shrugged and smiled proudly, "What can I say? I was dedicated." There was a moment of awkward silence between us before I asked, "Why'd you start exercising?"

He shrugged and leaned back and rested against the chair. He crossed his arms on is chest and drew in a deep breath. "I don't, I just got into it, I guess. The option was available, so I tried it out." He smirked, "Besides, girls like strong guys."

I laughed and tried not to spit out the cottage cheese that's in my mouth.

"What?"

I rolled my eyes at him and swallowed, "_Girls like strong guys._"

"What?" He stood up straighter, "Are you telling me that they don't?"

"No," I laughed, "I just didn't expect you to admit that. Especially to me."

"Oh?" he leaned over the table again, "Why 'especially' you?"

I shrugged and leaned back against my chair, pressing my bowl of cottage cheese into my chest. "Honestly, Draco, we've made a great deal of progress in a short amount of time. We hated each other just a month ago, and now look," I waved my fork around for a few seconds, "we've not only slept in the same bed, but we **cuddled**. I _never_ pictured us cuddling. Ever."

Draco sighed but didn't move, "Okay, I see what you're saying—"

"That's odd," I smirked.

"What's odd?"

"That you can _see_ what I'm—"

"Oh shut up." He chuckled lightly. "Anyway, I _understand_ what you're saying."

"Good." I smiled. We were quiet for a while, just looking at each other or looking awkwardly around the room. About five long minutes passed before my dad and Lucius walked into the room. They saw us and immediately stopped their conversation. My father walked over to the fridge and scanned the shelves while Lucius looked at Draco and me.

He leaned against the counter and smirked, "Did Neema make you breakfast, Draco?"

Draco nodded up and down while my dad looked over at us. "When'd you get here, Draco?"

I answered for him, "The same time I did."

My dad raised his right eyebrow.

I blushed and looked away for a minute. Softly, I continued, "He uh…spent the night."

My dad dropped his jaw along with the bag of baby carrots he grabbed just a moment ago. "What?"

I rushed out, "We didn't do anything!"

My dad stared me down, "Why'd he stay?"

I drew in a deep breath, "I've been having nightmares, and it was late anyway, and I thought that if Draco stayed I wouldn't have one…"

"And?" My dad picked up the carrots and closed the fridge door, but didn't take his eyes off of me. "Did you have a nightmare?"

A small smile made its way onto my face, "No. Nightmare free."

My dad blew out a long, loud breath. "Next time, ask me first."

"Oh—okay," Did I really just get off the hook that easy? "Sorry, dad."

As if things weren't already extremely tense and awkward, Lucius smirked and said, "Looks like you'd make a good wife, Neema. Draco doesn't usually eat omelets."

Draco blushed, but looked angry with his father. Before he could say anything, Lucius said, "What do you think, Neema?"

"Wha—uh…" I blushed, "Well… I do need to marry a rich man."

We all laughed.

"Why a rich man?" My dad asked and popped half of a baby carrot into his mouth.

I waved my right hand around the room, "Look at this place. I can't be brought up with money and be married into poverty. Oh. No. I like to shop, I'm _obviously _meant to live a life of luxury and travel."

We all laughed again. After a few more awkward minutes, they walked out of the kitchen and made their way to the living room. I sighed as the kitchen door swung shut, "My back hurts."

Draco stretched his arms above his head, "From what?"

"I don't know," I mumbled and finished off the rest of my cottage cheese and berries, "it always hurts."

"Here," Draco stood up and walked behind me; he turned my chair one hundred and eight degrees, and then told me to turn, too. He grabbed the chair next to me and sat down while I wrapped my arms around the backrest of the chair and leaned towards it, making my torso a forty-five degree angle. Draco scooted to the edge of his chair and started to gently rub my back. I sighed, smiled, and rested my head onto my arms. Draco slowly made his way up my sides, and then back down. Each time he did this, he moved his hands an inch closer to each other, until he was massaging my shoulder blades, then my mid back, and then my lower back. A small moan of approval left my lips as he massaged my main spot of pain, the middle area of my lower back.

I'm not quite sure what Draco's facial expression is, but I know that he took this as a sign to continue. He slowly eased his hands up my shirt, but he never strayed from my back. He started to focus mainly on my lower back; I guess he saw the corners of my lips curl, because he asked, "Is this where it hurts the most?"

"Yeah," I happily sighed.

He added a little more pressure into his massage and focused almost one hundred percent on my lower back. Small, quiet moans of approval continuously came from me as he rubbed in just the right spots. After a few minutes, I was almost a straight, diagonal line with my head at the top of the backrest of the chair, and my butt on the edge of the chair. Draco started to massage my lower sides and right above my butt; there was a sudden, loud noise from the living room. "Neema,"

My eyes slowly fluttered open, "Hmm?"

"Why don't you turn around and face me?"

I didn't see why, but I didn't question him. "Sure," I yawned and slowly stood up; Draco scooted back a bit so that I could have enough space to turn around. Once I sat down, he scooted to the edge of his seat and wrapped his arms around me. To my surprise, he picked me up, scooted me forward, and sat down on the edge of my seat. I put my hands on his chest and was going to look up at him, but he rested his head on top of mine and started to rub my back again. I smiled and leaned into him as someone walked into the room. Before I got a chance to figure out who walked in, Draco squeezed me to his body rather protectively and whispered the lyrics he remembered of "Got Your Back" into my right ear. I smiled and snuggled my face into his chest as he squeezed me and whispered, "_But I promise I will never let you go_…"

I smiled wider.

Draco drummed his finger tips on my back in the same rhythm he sang, "_Said I got I got I got I got your back, girl_._"_

I was about to start to sing along, but then a low, smooth, but impatient voice asked, "Are you two done?

My whole body stiffened; Draco could feel that and started to stroke my hair with his right hand while keeping his left arm wrapped tightly around me.

"Don't you own any clothes, boy?"

"Of course, sir."

I sighed and fought back tears; damn that Voldemort. Damn him.

"Then why are you only in your boxers?"

Draco drew in a deep breath, "I sleep in just my boxers, sir."

I turned my head and opened my right eye. Voldemort sneered at Draco and said, "Are you sleeping now?"

"…No, sir."

Out of nowhere, he chuckled and smirked. "Did Neema tell you to stay in your boxers?"

"Uh…" Draco chuckled nervously, "sort of."

Voldemort quickly walked over to us; once he was near us, he pulled my hair. I shouted from the sudden pain; he entangled his left hand in my hair and roughly pulled me away from Draco. Draco shot up as I stumbled into a standing position. Tears were freely running down my face; it felt like he pulled out a good-sized chunk of my hair out, plus I hurt my left leg against the chair. "Slut," Voldemort spat and smirked, "you're just a little slut." He looked me over, licked his lips, and then briskly walked to the living room with his hand still tightly stuck in my hair.

Draco followed us into the living room, he arrived just ten or so seconds after Voldemort shoved me into the room. All the Death Eaters eyes were on me; I silently scolded myself for not putting pants on this morning. "Nasier," Voldemort sneered.

"Ye-yes?" My dad quickly walked over to me and pulled me up off of the floor; I hid behind him and started to shake.

"Do you know that your daughter told Lucius' son to stay in his boxers?"

"No, but—"

Voldemort smirked, "Does this mean you're not aware that Neema is a slut?"

My father shouted, "Neema is _**not**_ a slut!"

Voldemort immediately drew his wand and put the cruciatus curse on my dad. I screamed in horror while my father fell to the floor in pain. My sister and mother almost immediately ran into the room, worried over what was happening. Voldemort saw them, smirked, and put more concentration into the curse. My father fell to the floor and withered around in pain while screaming and crying. I started to scream at Voldemort to stop, but he didn't. I ran over to Voldemort, and Draco ran in front of my father so that he wouldn't catch a glimpse at whatever I was about to do. I grabbed onto his wand arm, but my thrashing of his arm didn't break his focus. I knew what I had to do, but I really didn't want to. I hate this monster, I hate him more than I could ever express, but I love my father much more than I could ever hate Voldemort. Every passing second, every sound of my fathers struggle for breath caused me to forget thinking about any other options.

I drew in a deep breath and flung myself into Voldemort's chest. He looked down at me the second my body touched his; I immediately kissed him on the lips. The curse on my father significantly weakened; Draco blocked me from my father's view, so I ran my hands through Voldemort's new, thick hair. He dropped his wand and picked me up from my thighs, forcing me to wrap my legs around him. Since Voldemort dropped his wand, the cruciatus curse was lifted from my father; he's no longer screaming, he's just panting, but my mother and sister are hyperventilating.

It took Voldemort about five seconds to slam me into the closest wall and start roughly kissing me. He squeezed my legs just above my knees, then he squeezed my thighs, and finally, my hips. I gasped from how hard he gripped my hips; he took this opportunity to explore my mouth with his tongue. He started to grind his growing erection against me; I bit my bottom lip to keep from moaning. "Please," I whimpered, "not here."

Voldemort smirked and pulled away. Out of nowhere, he stepped back and let me fall. He sighed and smirked, and then he turned to look at my father. He chuckled and said, "You see? Your daughter's answer was to be a slut."

My father started to sob without shame; my mother ran to his side and hugged him while my sister remembered the last time she saw me on the floor of the living room and puked. Draco quietly rushed over to me and gently pulled me up on my knees. While still on our knees, I rested my body into his as wrapped his arms around me; I instantly started to sob onto his left shoulder.

Before anyone from my family said anything, Voldemort sighed and said, "The Parkinson's are having a small gathering in four days."

We were all silent.

"They live in northern England…"

We were all, still, silent.

He sighed, rolled his eyes, and looked at my father. "The main purpose of the gathering is to initiate new Death Eaters. So," He looked over at Lucius, "I'll be taking your son, obviously."

Lucius slowly nodded his head up and down.

Voldemort smirked down at my father, "I'll be taking Neema."

Through a sob, I shouted, "I'm not going to be a Death Eater!"

Voldemort laughed coldly and looked over at me. He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his black slacks, and rocked back and forth on his toes. He licked his lips and said, "I'm not bringing you to make you into a Death Eater. However," he looked my crying, crumpled form over, "there'll probably be some eating." He winked and started to head for the door, and order the Death Eaters – except for my dad – to follow him out. When he reached the door, he looked back at my dad and said, "I want her ready in two days, it'll take a while to drive there."

My dad slammed his fists down on the carpet below him and started to sob again.

My mother sobbed on him.

Drea puked again.

I screamed, cried, shook, and puked.

* * *

**A/N: I've already started the next chapter, so it might be up within the next few hours, if not, sometime night/tomorrow morning. Please, please, **_**please**_** review. I love reviews very, very much.**


	9. Conversation in Two

**Chapter Nine: Conversation in Two**

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I packed enough clothes to last me a week and a half since no one was told how long I'd be staying there. I sat on my bed with my head in my hands as I stared at my suitcase. There was a light knock on the door, but before I said anything, my father walked in anyway. He looked at me and painfully sighed. He sat down to my right and stared at my suitcase with me.

"Neema."

With a weak, cracked voice, I replied, "Dad."

My dad silently cried while he turned and hugged me. I hugged him back and cried into his chest. He breathed out, "Drea and your mother are staying in Gaston's apartment for the next few days. They couldn't bare to be here when…when," my dad started to sob. He squeezed me into his chest and cried for a minute, "They couldn't be here for it. Plus, someone has to tell Gaston what's happening to the family."

I started to cry. I sobbed into his chest and weakly told him, "I'm, I'm so sorry dad. I didn't want to kiss—"

He pulled away a few inches and cradled my face in his hands. "Neemie," tears rolled down his cheeks, "none of this is your fault. None, absolutely **none** of this is your fault." He gulped, "Are you listening to me?"

I nodded up and down.

He wiped a tear off of my left cheek with his right thumb. "He is an evil, horrible man. He's forcing you to torture yourself. And I know that you did that to save me from more pain." My dad kissed my forehead and hugged me again. "Sometimes you're too brave for your own good. I would much rather be put under the cruciatus curse for the rest of my life, for every second of every day of the rest of my life," he held me tighter, "than have you have even look at him. I wish I could do something to stop this—"

Our loud sobbing cut off his statement; I don't know how long we were sobbing for, but at some point Draco knocked on my door to get our attention. My dad turned his head to see who was here. A sigh of relief left from his chest. He stood up and weakly whispered, "I'm so glad you're going with them." He walked over to Draco while I walked over to my suitcase. "Draco," My dad whispered.

"Yes, Mr. Saravia?"

Halfheartedly, my dad smiled and said, "Call me Nasier."

"Yes…Nasier?"

"Please, please, try to be with Neema as much as possible."

Draco quickly nodded his head up and down, "Of course, of course. I was going to do that even if you didn't ask me."

My father hugged Draco and whispered, "Thank you, thank you so much, Draco." He pulled away and took a step back. He looked at Draco's left arm and said, "You should enjoy short sleeves while you still can."

Draco gulped as my father waked over to me and hugged me. He picked me up off of the ground and held me for a long time. While still hugging me, he whispered, "I put a spell on the Maybach so that no matter what physically happens to the car, it can't get damaged. I figured you could use one less thing to worry about." I whispered out a thank you; by the time that he put me down, Draco transfigured his long sleeve white shirt into a white short sleeve shirt. Draco quietly walked over and picked up my suitcase. I told my dad that I love him, and then we walked down stairs to the foyer.

I was slightly taken back by Voldemort's appearance for a minute. His hair was neat, and his dark brown eyes were staring off into a corner of the foyer; his face was at the perfect angle to ogle at his perfect profile. He was standing right in the middle of a stream of light from a near by window; his black hair had a slight glow about it, as did his pale skin. His hands were casually tucked away into the front pockets of his black jeans, and he's wearing plain brown shoes, and a brown, short sleeve shirt. The only thing that reminded me that his unbelievably handsome man is really the devil in disguise was the jet-black Dark Mark on his left inner arm. I died a little bit inside when I realized I was just checking out the psychopathic, sadistic murder, who is also my rapist.

I leaned against Draco; he wrapped his free arm, his right arm, around me and supported my weight so that I wouldn't collapse and have another break down. The sound of my rapid breathing caught Voldemort's attention. He smirked and looked me over before saying, "Are you ready to leave?"

I nodded my head up and down.

He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and tossed me the keys to the Maybach.

I caught them and squeezed them. I sighed and quietly said, "La—Lord Voldemort?"

In an uncaring voice, he responded with, "Yes?"

"May I ask you a question regarding our form of transportation?"

He smirked and put his right hand back into his pocket. He walked over to me before saying, "You may."

"You can apperate, so why are we driving up?"

He took his left hand out of his pocket, put his index finger under my chin and tilted my head up towards his. "That'd be much too fast. Surely, that was obvious." He walked to the garage quietly snickering. I shuddered and walked several feet behind Voldemort with Draco by my side. Once in the garage, I unlocked the car with the button on the keys, and then popped the trunk in the same fashion. Draco placed my suitcase in the trunk, and then grabbed his and Voldemort's suitcases from several feet away. I situated myself in the driver's seat, moving the seat up, and moving the wheel down. Voldemort opened the passenger door, but I held my left hand up in a way that said "oh no." He looked at it curiously; when we made eye contact, I said, "Bros before hoes."

He was caught off guard, "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means that Draco gets front or I'm not driving anywhere."

Voldemort slammed the door shut, opened the door to the back seats, and situated himself in the roomy back. For a moment, I sat in complete shock. Voldemort, _Voldemort _not only just took shit from me, but he did what I said. Draco, wide eyed and worried, sat in the passenger seat. I gulped and moved the mirrors a bit, and then adjusted the rearview mirror. Voldemort was silently figuring out all of the features of the backseat; he seemed impressed with the car; while he was still in a good – well good for him – mood, I pressed the button for the garage door, put the car in reverse, and slowly backed out. Once out of the garage, I pressed the button so that the door would shut. Then I reversed out of my large driveway, turned the wheel to the left so that the car would be facing right, the direction of the freeway, and started to drive.

I glanced over at Draco then back onto the road. "Which way am I driving to get to the Parkinson's?"

"North, it's practically a straight shot from here."

I put on the left blinker and waited for traffic to clear so that I can get to the necessary road. "How many hours shall I expect to drive?"

Draco shrugged, "About five, maybe six, if there's a lot of traffic."

I sighed and started to drive towards the freeway. No one spoke until I reached the on-ramp to the freeway. I sped up, looked in my mirror, checked my blind spot, and then sped up to sixty-five miles per hour. "Do you have your iPod in here?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," I sighed, "it's with my wand."

Draco playfully smirked, "And where might that be?"

I softly chuckled and said, "In the glove compartment."

Draco opened it up, immediately saw my iPod, took it out, and then plugged it in. I told him to just put it on shuffle and change the song as needed instead of hunt down a song that he may or may not like. He nodded his head up and down, but still looked through my songs. After a few minutes of searching, Draco sighed and put it on shuffle. Draco skipped a few songs, and was about to skip "Y—U—Smilin'" by Andre Nickatina, but I told him to turn it up. Almost immediately, I rapped along and tapped my fingertips on the wheel to the beat.

Voldemort said, "What is this…?"

I looked at him in the rearview for a second, and then bitterly replied, "Rap." Before he could say anything, I turned it up; it's volume almost hurt my ears, but I don't care. I'd rather hear this than his smooth, silk like voice. Draco was about to skip the next song, too, but I told him to leave all the Andre Nickatina songs alone. He rolled his eyes, sighed, and put my iPod back down on his lap. He stared out the window, Voldemort gradually figured out the TV in the back of the passenger seat and the wireless headphones that go with it, and I turned the music up. I figured it useful to know the state of the Soul of a Coke Dealer; I showed this by bobbing my head along with the song. After a while, I merged into the next lane and sped up to seventy-two miles per hour.

Apparently Voldemort couldn't hear the TV because my music was on so loud, so he loudly sighed, turned the TV off, and put the headphones away. He laid the seat back a bit further and stared out the window. I sped up to seventy-seven miles per hour as "Tony Montana" started to play. I relaxed a bit; for whatever reason, focusing on driving, and having some music in the background, never failed to make me feel better. As the chorus played, Draco practically shouted, "Who's Tony Montana?"

I smirked and started to drive with mostly my right hand as I shifted my weight to the right. "He's the main character in Scarface."

Draco raised his right eyebrow, "What's that?"

"It's a muggle movie."

"What's it about?"

I smirked for no real reason, "Long story short, it's about cocaine. Tony Montana is a drug lord; he came from poverty, and through selling drugs, he became very wealthy. Obviously, he was a…" I paused for moment, "I don't know, I suppose a mobster, for lack of a better word."

Draco nodded his head up and down, signaling to me that he found my answer adequate. The majority of the trip passed in silence. Voldemort spent most of his time staring out the window, or staring at me. Draco mainly stared out the window, but he also looked at all the features the Maybach offered the shotgun passenger. "Neema?"

"Yeah?" I replied and turned down the rap that I had Draco play, "What's up?"

"You should merge to the right soon, we'll need to get off this freeway and start heading east."

"Okay," I looked in my mirrors, checked my blind spot, and then merged. "What exit should I get off at?"

"Uhm…" Draco thought for a moment, "the one after this one." He pointed to one a few miles down the freeway.

"Okay, thanks."

Draco relaxed back into the seat, "Sure."

The only sound in the car, besides our breathing, is the sound of my music. I eventually ran out of Andre Nickatina, so I allowed Draco to pick a song. He ended up picking some of my more alternative and rock music; it was apparent that he liked this more. After another two hours of driving, I had to slow down to accommodate the new flow of traffic. Voldemort sighed, put his hands behind his head for comfort, and said, "I'm hungry."

Draco followed with, "I'm thirsty."

I sighed and sat up a bit straighter in my seat. "Hello Hungry and Thirsty, I'm Really Pissed the Hell Off. Nice to meet you."

Draco bit his lip to keep from laughing, but Voldemort chuckled freely. Draco and I made eye contact for a minute; we were both confused. There is no reason for Voldemort to be taking any of my smart mouth remarks; we're especially worried since he's laughing, too. After he was done chuckling, he said, "Your father has good taste when it comes to cars."

I nodded in agreement while saying, "My father has a good taste when it comes to most material items."

He looked me over, "I feel it's safe to assume that he passed the style gene down to you."

I rolled my eyes.

In a much colder voice than before, Voldemort said, "That was a compliment, Neema. Do I need to tell your father—?"

"Thank you," I gripped the wheel, "Thank you for the compliment, my Lord." I didn't talk the rest of the way, I was too busy grinding my teeth.

* * *

When I finally found the Parkinson's mansion, I loudly sighed in relief and carefully parked the car in the empty place in their garage. Voldemort and Draco immediately got out to stretch their long legs, but I took my time. I turned my iPod off, put it in my pocket, and grabbed my wand, too. I turned the car off, made sure that I put it in park, put on the emergency break, and got out. Before I closed the door, I made sure that the keys are in my right pants pocket. Then, I popped the trunk, locked the car, and shut my door. Voldemort walked to the door, where the Parkinson family was waiting since I parked the car. Draco grabbed his suitcase and Voldemort's suitcase, while I grabbed mine. Draco and I walked silently, but side by side, to the Parkinson's foyer; I closed the door behind us. The second I put my suitcase down, a house elf rushed over to it, touched it and disappeared; I guess he's putting it in the room I'm staying in while I'm stuck here.

Voldemort wrapped his right arm around my waist and tugged me to his side. He smirked and told Mr. Parkinson, "This here is Neema, Neema Saravia."

Apparently I didn't look pleased, surprise, surprise. However, Mr. Parkinson ignored that and asked Voldemort, "Is she becoming a Death Eater, my Lord?"

"No," he sighed and put his fingertips in my right pocket, "she's with me for other purposes." He smirked and looked back at Mr. Parkinson, who was also smirking.

"That's… a shame that she's not becoming a Death Eater."

Before Voldemort could respond, Pansy stopped her ogling at Voldemort's new body for a moment to quietly say, "That's because she's a Gryffindor."

All of our eyes were immediately on her. No one knew how to respond, so, in a cold voice, I said, "If the Dark Lord Voldemort has deemed me worthy, who are you to judge _anything_ about me?"

Voldemort laughed and looked down at me with an expression that said, "You're full of shit."

The air in the room was awkward, until Mrs. Parkinson said, "My Lord, we have a wonderful dinner ready for you. Would you like to eat it now?"

Voldemort placed his free hand on his stomach, "Yes. I'm starving, Neema drove us straight here."

"No stops?" Mr. Parkinson asked while leading the way to the dinning room.

"None," I replied, "only the weak stop."

Voldemort laughed again while Mrs. Parkinson told Pansy to go change out of her casual clothes. I tried to pry Voldemort's hand off of my side, but I failed, so I looked up at him. "Should I go change, too?"

He looked down at me, did an observation frown, and then said, "No. You like fine."

I breathed nervously and put my right hand on my left elbow. "I'm in travel jeans—"

Voldemort's grip on me significantly tightened, "I said no."

"Oh-Okay."

He loosened his grip and walked me to the dinning room table. He sat down at the right head and told me to sit down to his right. He discussed the gathering with Mr. Parkinson, who sat at the other head of the table. His wife was seated the same way I am; I died a little bit inside. I didn't even have Draco to talk to, he ended up sitting across from Pansy; he was slowly becoming his cruel self again. I am now, officially, alone in this evil, evil place.

The food magically appeared onto the platters on the table. Voldemort put some peas and rice on his plate, and then looked at me. I picked up my plate and placed it closer to the peas and rice; he put some on my plate and then set the bowl back down from where he picked it up. He did this with the caramelized onions and mushrooms, the steamed carrots, and a few other vegetables. When he got to the roast, he gave me two large slices, and then put one on his plate. He looked down at his plate, and decided that he wanted one more. "Wait," I said quietly, I placed my plate down next to his, picked up the second slice he gave me with my clean fork and knife, and then gently placed it on top of his original slice.

"Are you not hungry?"

"I'm hungry," I looked up into his dark brown eyes, but quickly looked back down at my plate. I picked it up and put it back in front of me, "but I already have a lot of food on my plate."

Voldemort didn't say anything in response, so I assumed that he found my reasoning acceptable. I ate in complete silence; I didn't start any conversation, and no one talked to me. It wasn't until the few minutes between the end of dinner, and the beginning of desert did anyone talk to me. Voldemort sent a house elf up to his room to get a large, but short, blue box out of his suitcase. When the house elf came back, Voldemort gently took the box out of his hands, but pushed the house elf away. It stumbled with a squeal and rushed out. "Open this," Voldemort said while slowly scooting the box in front of me. I put my hands on the sides of the lid and slowly pulled the top off, hoping that I'm not going to be hexed or put under a curse.

A loud sigh of relief came out of me when I opened the box and wasn't hexed or cursed. When I looked down into the box, my jaw dropped and my eyes widened. I slowly picked up the necklace and examined it. I stuttered, but didn't form a real sentence.

Voldemort smirked and said, "Wear it tomorrow night. It matches your dress."

I ogled at the necklace for a moment. It was a choker, but it had a web of perfectly spaced diamonds that extended downwards for about six inches. Every few stones weren't diamonds, but it was still a gorgeous, royal purple, stone. "I…" I looked up at him, "I didn't pack a purple dress."

"I know," he smirked again, folded his hands together, and placed them under his chin. "I brought one for you. You'll be wearing that dress, the shoes that match it, and that necklace tomorrow night."

"Oh—Okay." I stared at it for a moment longer before gently putting it back down in the box. "That's—That's too much," I looked up and added, "my Lord." for good measure. "The necklace alone must have been—"

He looked slightly annoyed, "Stop worrying yourself with the prices of gifts."

I was silent for thirty seconds before I timidly looked up into his eyes and softly spoke. "Thank you, Lord Voldemort."

He placed his right hand on my left cheek and stroked it with his thumb. "I can't court a beautiful woman if she's not wearing beautiful things."

I blushed, mostly out of fear, the rest out of embarrassment. I looked over at Draco; his face was a mixture of jealousy, fear, and apathy. I then looked at Pansy; she was almost green with jealousy. A now very handsome Voldemort was with me, a Gryffindor, a girl who wants nothing to do with anything Voldemort related, a girl she probably didn't realize is just a victim of circumstance. I'd love to trade places with her right now. I'd much rather be bonding with Draco than Voldemort; at least with Pansy, Voldemort's sexual advances wouldn't be sickening or considered rape. She always loved being apart of the Dark Side; she'd love to trade places with me, possibly more than I want to with her.

I ate dessert in complete silence, every once and a while I looked up at Voldemort. I felt disgusted to the core the few times that I looked at him and thought he was attractive. But… it's true. I'd be lying if I said that his recently acquired, youthful appearance is ugly. His skin is perfect, his hair is short and neatly combed, his teeth are white and straight, his eyes are dark brown, his lips are on the thin side, and his voice is smooth, silky, and inviting. He's tall, about six feet tall, and his body isn't fit, but it is still rather lean and appealing.

Don't misjudge my observation; I don't like him. At all. I'm just thankful that at least now I'm not stuck with a snake-demon. The only times I have to see that face now is in my nightmares. On the down side, the only night I haven't had any nightmares was when Draco and I fell asleep cuddling.

When everyone was done eating, the plates and extra food disappeared into the kitchen. I only ate half of my piece of cake, causing Voldemort to look at me and say, "Full?"

I put my right hand on my stomach, "I ate all the icing first. Now I feel sick."

"Ahh…" He snapped his fingers so my plate would disappear into the kitchen as well. I watched the Parkinson's, Draco, and Voldemort converse so I could try to figure out why he was being kind to me. He was intimidating the Parkinson's, almost scaring them; he was rude and rough, and yet, he was being polite to me. I silently watched and thought until the Parkinson's grew tired. They excused themselves and went up stairs to sleep; Pansy showed Draco to his room. Unfortunately, his room is across from hers, and mine is the same as Voldemort's.

I nervously walked behind him; his face was expressionless until we reached the room. He opened the door for me, and closed and locked it behind him. I realized that not only are we alone on this floor, but there's only one bed. He quickly relieved himself and washed his hands and face, then he told me to do whatever I needed to do. I relieved myself as well, washed my hands, and then washed my make-up off. I splashed some water on my face to make sure the oily remover I use is gone, dried it, and then rubbed my acne medicine in circles on my face, waited a few minutes for it to absorb, and then washed my hands again. After I dried them, I walked out of the bathroom to find Voldemort lying down on the left side of the bed in only his green boxers. He had his arms behind his head and a big smirk on his face. I gulped and walked over to my suitcase, but then he said, "I have your pajamas out and ready for you."

I turned to him and quietly asked, "Where are they?"

He nodded his head towards the small bedside table near my side of the bed. I cautiously walked over to it; I cringed when I caught sight of what he had laid out. His smirk grew as I picked it up with my fingertips and held it to the light. I gulped as I registered what I was holding: a short silver negligee. "Go on," he said softly, "put it on."

I looked at his face; he was serious. I drew in a deep breath as I started to walk towards the bathroom.

He traded in his soft, almost encouraging voice, for a stern, harsh one. "No, change out here."

I bit my bottom lip and walked over to my suitcase. I slipped my flip-flops off, put the negligee down for a moment, fought off some tears, and took my hair down; I could feel his brown eyes burning my body with their stare. I looked over my shoulder at him, but immediately looked away. I drew in another deep breath as I slowly stared to take my shirt off.

"Don't be shy," he let out a low, cold laugh, "it's not like I've never seen you naked before."

A small cry left my lips; I could practically feel him roll his eyes.

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**A/N: Everyone appreciates reviews. :)**


	10. Caught in a Bad Romance

**Chapter Ten: Caught in a Bad Romance**

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**A/N: I was about to start a new chapter for my "Labeled as Freaks…" story, but because Cass squealed in one of my favorite stores, I'm going to continue my focus on "My Derailment".**

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My hands started to shake as I slowly peeled my white T-shirt off of my body. I dropped it at my feet, and then took my bra off. Once my bra was off, I quickly put the baby doll style, short dress of the silver negligee on. I straightened my body into one hundred and eighty degrees, sucked in for a moment, and unbuttoned my jeans. As I started to push the fabric down my hips, Voldemort said in a silky, but still scary voice, "Bend at the waist."

I gulped, bent at the waist, and pushed the rest of the fabric down to my ankles. I stood back up, put my right foot on the loose fabric of my left leg, and pulled my left leg out of my pants. Then I bent my right leg, pulled off my pants and set it down by my shirt. I quickly slipped out of my undies, put them by my pants and shirt, and slipped on the silver G-string that's a part of the negligee. I put the palms of my hands on my stomach and looked over my shoulder at him. He was hungrily looking me up and down; I noticed that the bump beneath the thin fabric of his boxers was starting to get bigger. After thoroughly studying my body from the back, he ran his hands up his neck and through his hair. He lustfully hissed, "Come here."

I drew in yet another deep breath and started walking over to his side of the bed. He licked his lips when his eyes found my hips; he huskily said, "Straddle me."

My nervous breathing became rapid as I straddled him. He put his left hand on my right hip and grabbed his wand from the nightstand to his right. He pointed it at a discreet stereo system near us; almost immediately, "Touchin On My" by 3oh!3 stared to play. He then pointed his wand at my lower stomach and mumbled the same contraceptive spell I used the first time he forced himself upon me. I shuddered as he put his lips to my left ear and whispered along with the song, "_Show me yours, I'll show you mine, don't you worry, you're too fine._"

I tried to fight back a soft moan when he nibbled on my earlobe, but I failed. I could feel his lips form into a smirk as he kissed his way down my neck and to my collarbone. He started leaving small, but numerous hickeys from the left side of my collarbone, all the way to the kissed his way up the right side of my neck, up my jaw line, and to my ear. He nibbled my earlobe and grabbed his wand again. A shiver shot up my spine as he pushed the thin fabric of the G-string to the side with the tip of his wand. He pointed it an inch away from my entrance and mumbled a spell. I shuddered and dug my nails into his shoulders the second I felt it.

"_What_ was that?" I practically shouted at him.

He moved his face away from my neck and looked into my worried eyes. "That was a spell."

I tilted my head the left and said, "_Naaaw_, that totally wasn't a spell."

He chuckled and said, "I like how tight you are, and I want to keep it that way."

I gave him a curious look.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Eventually, you're going to stretch. I just made it so that after you have sex, no matter what the size of the dick, you're always going to come back to the size you are now."

I was silent for a minute. "…Thanks?" He didn't say anything; instead, he started kissing my neck again and pointed his wand at my butt, mumbled the same spell, and then leaned away from me to put his wand back. He was heading for my neck, but I put my hands firmly against his shoulders. With wide, worried eyes, I whispered, "No."

He smirked and slipped his hands underneath mine. "No to what?"

"My…" I pushed the palms of my hands against the palms of his, putting our hands back against his shoulders. "My butt, please," my eyes started to water, "_please_, not my butt."

A wild look flashed across his eyes as a sadistic smile spread across his face. He quickly slipped his hands away from mine and roughly grabbed my butt, causing me to grind against his clothed erection. I did my best to not moan from the movement, but a small whimper escaped. He squeezed my butt and excitedly asked me, "Are you… are you an anal virgin?"

I bit my bottom lip as tears started to form in my eyes. "Ye—Yes."

His smiled widened enough to show a little bit of his teeth, "Oh," he breathed, "tonight is going to be very, very fun."

I gulped.

He faked a look of concern and wiped a tear off of my left cheek with his right thumb. "Shu-shu-shush. Don't cry, I promise you'll like it." he kissed my forehead; I could feel his smirk forming again, "Whether or not you want it," he chuckled, "you'll like it."

I silently started to cry as he kissed his way straight down my face and to my lips. I felt a sudden stinging pain in my forehead as his kiss got rougher. Before I could lean away from him and rub my head, he pulled away from me and stared into my eyes. "Stop picturing my old body, it'll be better if you look at my new one."

I stayed silent.

He sighed and caressed my left cheek with his right hand. "Neema, Neema, Neema."

Fuck it, I'm already about to be raped, what do I have to lose? "Voldie, Voldie, Voldie."

He gave me a curious look, but then started to laugh. "You're feelin' pretty ballsy tonight."

I couldn't help but to laugh, too. After a moment of awkward silence, I whispered, "Why are you trying to help me?"

He raised his right eyebrow and replied, "I didn't bother to get back my youthful appearance for nothing." He kissed me softly on the lips before adding on, "Besides, you think I'm quite attractive now. I'm not going to stop just because you don't like it, so you might as well enjoy one thing about all this."

The song changed, but I wasn't really paying attention to it. I laughed, relaxed my body, and then breathed out. "I hate you."

"I know," he said and started to kiss and nibble on my lips, "I know that very well."

I sighed and gently placed my arms around his neck for comfort. He started to kiss me faster and rougher while running his hands up and down my back, my sides, and then up the negligee. I gasped as his fingers inched their way up to my breasts. He broke the kiss just long enough to tell me, "Raise your arms." The second I did so was the second he pulled the negligee up off of my body. He tossed it to the side and cupped my breasts; he kissed his way down the front of my neck, leisurely making his way to the area of my chest between my breasts. I gasped when he rubbed my hardening nipples with his thumbs; I looked down and sighed as he started to kiss my left breast. He looked up at me with a smirk right before he sucked my left nipple into his warm mouth. He used his right hand to grab my butt and brush me against his erection; I couldn't help but to moan. He put both of his hands on my butt and rubbed me back and forth against his erection. After a minute or so of licking and sucking on my left nipple, he kissed his way to my right one and did the same.

He started to kiss his way back up my chest and to the weak spots on my neck when he wrapped his arms around my waist and slowly folded his legs up. Then, he sat up onto his knees and slowly laid me onto my back. I sat up, using my elbows against the mattress as support. While looking up at me, he kissed my stomach in the shape of a "V" before he kissed the line of soft flesh above the top of the G-string that I'm wearing. He slipped his fingertips underneath the side strings and slowly pulled the G-string down, never moving his eyes away from mine. He put his hands underneath my knees and bent my legs up to ninety degrees, pulled the G-string off, and flung that by the top of the negligee. He put his hands on my outer legs and moved them up at the same pace he kissed his way up my inner legs. He reached my thighs just as "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga started to play. I shuddered, remembering the first time this happened to me, remembering how this song played. I quickly pushed that out of my head and remembered what he said just a few minutes before, "_…you might as well enjoy one thing about all this._" I gulped and felt sick, but there was nothing I could do to stop this. I couldn't even fool my mind _or_ my body into not liking the way his touches felt.

He skipped my vagina entirely as he kissed his way up the middle of my stomach, between my breasts, up my neck, and to my right ear. He nibbled on my earlobe and huskily whispered, "_I want your horror, I want your design, 'cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine._"

I shuddered.

He kissed his way back down my body. He started to caress my inner thighs with his hands and his lips; just as I was getting used to the feeling of this, he tickled my slit with the tip of his tongue. My eyes shot open and a small, surprised moan escaped from my lips. He looked up at me, the fact that he's dominant in everything me related was turning him on. I pressed my lips together and my eyelids fluttered as his tongue started to lick and explore my folds. Whimpers of pure pleasure came from my throat as his licks became faster and faster. He licked small circles around my clit and smirked at the sound of my moan when he flicked his tongue against it. He licked his lips and then gently sucked my clit into his mouth; my hips involuntarily bucked up towards him as his sucking and licking became rougher. I couldn't stop anything about my moans; the rate them came out, or the volume of them. He grabbed and squeezed my right hip with his left hand while he circled my wet entrance with his right index and middle fingers. My eyes and head rolled back as he slowly slid them in and out of me. He sucked on my clit harder and started to rub his fingers against my G-spot. I couldn't help but to start to moan andshout as he furiously rubbed my G-spot. I don't know if it took me two seconds or two minutes, but I came, and I came hard. He smirked at my panting, lightly sweaty form, and slowly pulled his fingers out of me.

When my breathing eased back to normal, I opened my eyes and instantly made eye contact with him. He popped his fingers into his mouth and licked my juices from them. He smirked, slid them out, and then slid them into my mouth. I drew in a deep breath and licked his fingers. After a minute of this, he slid them out of my mouth and got off of the bed. He slid his boxers down to his ankles, stepped out of them with his left foot, and then kicked them to the side with his right. My eyes examined his new body; there's some muscle definition, not as much as Draco, but still enough to want to stare. I looked at his arms, they were pretty toned; then I looked at the faint lines marking developing abs. His silk voice was filled with lust and demand, "Come here."

I situated myself to the part of the edge of the bed that he's standing in front of and looked at his penis. My eyes widened and my mouth opened a centimeter or two. I drew in a deep breath and blinked, hard. His youthful body possessed an eight, maybe nine-inch penis. I timidly placed my right hand on it; I gently closed my hand around it and quietly gasped when I found that I could only _almost_ touch my middle finger to my thumb. He looked down at me with a smirk, wrapped his left hand around my right, and started to move my hand up and down his stiff shaft. After a few strokes, he brought my hand up to my mouth. I looked up at him and he looked down at my face, after a few seconds of waiting, he stuck his tongue out and made a licking motion. I looked at my hand and licked it a few times, and then he brought it back down to his shaft. He entangled his right hand in my hair and brought my lips to the head. I lightly flicked my tongue against it before I started to actually lick it. He rolled his head back and started to grunt as I wrapped my moist lips around his head and started to suck on it. Several minutes passed before he took his left hand off of my right hand, picked up my left hand, and placed it on his balls. I immediately tried to move my hand away; Mark always tried to get me to touch him down there, too, but I always thought it felt gross.

Alas, this is Voldemort, not Mark. He forced my hand to stay; I cringed at the feeling, but he started to buck his hips and grunt again. I'm assuming that this means he's close, so I sucked harder, licked quicker, and stroked faster. "Ah–Auh–Aaahh!" Before I knew it, he busted in my mouth. He smirked down at me, untangled his hand, and started to stroke my hair. "Swallow." I gulped and then leaned back, forcing him to remove his dick from my mouth. I drew in a long, deep breath as he told me to scoot back. I slowly scooted back, which gave him enough room to get back on the bed. He situated himself so that his arms would be mere inches away from my body. His breathing was easing back to its normal rate, but his eyes still had a wild look about them.

I started to feel scared again. How could I have just done that without at least giving chomping down on him a try? This is Voldemort! Am I actually, willing having sex with him? No. I would never do this if I had the option of no. My breathing became uneasy again as he started to kiss my neck near my right ear. I sighed softly as he started to give me another hickey. He nibbled on my earlobe again, "Wrap your legs around me."

I placed my hands against his slightly sweaty chest and stretched me legs for a second. I slowly wrapped my legs around his waist; he rubbed the tip of his erection against me, causing us to both sigh. He slowly slid his hard member into my wet entrance; once the majority of him was inside, Voldemort put the majority of his weight on his left hand while he pointed his right hand back at the stereo. He flicked his hand up, causing the volume to go up just at "My First Kiss" by 3oh!3 started to play. He then put his right hand back down, equaled out the ratio of his weight, and started to hump me. He was slow at first, getting small moans out of me, but he quickened his every other thrust until his pace matched that of the song. He grunted and tilted his head so that I'd be moaning almost directly into his left ear, but his lips were near my left ear, too. "_She won't ever get enough, once she gets a little touch, if I had it my way, you know that I'd make you say—!_"

I moaned perfectly on time with the lyric; if I weren't already preoccupied, I'd be laughing. I dug my nails into his back and couldn't help but to start bucking my hips up to meet his thrusts. His grunts grew louder at the same pace that my moans grew louder; my orgasm was building, and it was building fast. In fact, I came within the new few minutes. For thirty seconds, my body thrashed against his, I dug my nails deep into his back and the back of his neck, and I practically screamed instead of moaned. Voldemort slammed his dick into me several more times before he came, too. He collapsed on top of me, causing me to gasp from the sudden shock of his weight pressing down on my body. I slowly unwrapped my legs as we both panted for several minutes. He started to kiss my jaw, chin, and then lips as he pulled out of me.

He sat up on his knees, ran his hands from the back of his neck and through his hair, and looked me over and smirked. "Sit up."

I did so without question. I know what's coming for me, and as much as I want to fight it, how much I want to avoid it all, I know that my attempts would be fruitless. Not only is his mind already set, but he's stronger than me, and he wouldn't hesitate to put me under an unforgivable curse.

He smirked, drew in a deep breath, and said, "Good girl. Now get on your hands and knees."

Maybe it'd be better to be put under an unforgivable curse.

"What are you waiting for?" His impatient voice matched his facial expression.

"I was wondering how much I'd have to resist you until you'd just give up and put me under the Imperius Curse."

Voldemort laughed and stroked my face with his right hand. "First of all, if you were completely under my control, it'd take away all the fun in this."

I cringed.

He playfully slapped my face, but he had a small, sadistic smile on his face. "Second of all, I'd use the Cruciatus Curse on you,"

I cringed, again.

"But don't worry," a low, cold laugh, came from his chest, "I'd only use it on you until you learned your place." He touched the tip of my nose with his right index finger, "Servant." He then put his finger on his chest, "Master."

I looked at him for a few seconds longer, but when my eyes slowly started to produce tears, I got on my hands and knees. He grabbed his wand from the nightstand behind him, pointed it at my ass, and mumbled a spell. An odd sensation took place in my lower body for a second; I quickly realized that he used a cleansing spell. Then, he mumbled a different spell; "What'd you just do?" I asked while looking at him over my shoulder. He placed his wand back on the nightstand, turned back towards me, and started to caress my ass with his hands.

He smirked and said, "That last spell was a lubrication spell."

"Oh," I bit my bottom lip and turned my head so that I'd be looking down at my hands again.

"No," He spanked me, "turn your head, I want to see your face as I do this."

I shuddered, gulped, and did so.

He smirked as he caressed and squeezed my ass and inner thighs. He covered my backside with soft kisses before he slowly slid his middle finger into me. I whimpered; it felt odd in all the worst ways. He laughed at the sight of my scrunched up face, but waited a few minutes before saying, "Relax. It won't hurt as much if you relax."

I didn't bother questioning why he was trying to make this better for me; I just did my best to relax. I focused on the rate of my breathing instead of the feeling of his intruding finger. Eventually, he was able to slide in his index finger as well. I don't know if he could feel that I was in pain, or if he just felt like doing so, but he used his left hand to slowly rub my clit in circles. A soft moan left my lips as I focused on the movements of his left hand; before I knew it, he slid in a third finger. After a few minutes of that, he withdrew his hands, gently gripped my hips, and slowly started to push the head of his dick into me. I gasped and cringed; the feeling of his dick in my ass was not a pleasant one. It took a few minutes before he was all the way in, and several more minutes before the pain subsided. He was going slowly, but he started to quicken his pace when he felt my body relaxed. He brushed my hair off of my neck with his left hand, and then placed his left hand to the far left of my mid back, almost on my side. He gripped and caressed my right cheek with his right hand and grunted out, "How does it feel?"

I was almost dripping with sweat, "Wa—weird."

He smirked, "It'll feel good soon," he smiled devilishly at me and winked, "I promise."

For the time being, I focused on the song. I realized that we were thirty or so seconds into "I'm So Excited" by The Pointer Sisters. I instantly wanted to cry and puke; partly because I was remembering the first time he raped me, and partly because I remembered his demon-snake face. I quickly opened my eyes and looked at the new, young face he now has. His eyes were fixed on the sight of his dick sliding in and out of my ass, his thin lips were slightly open, allowing his grunts to fill the room, and his whole body had a thin layer of sweat covering it, especially his pale, handsome face. His brows were slightly scrunched, probably with focus, and his breathing was becoming faster. I was going to continue my examination of his body, but his thrusts started to feel good. My breathing was still fast, but that was no longer caused by pain. Every outward motion, and every thrust in felt good. Small moans started to come from me; he smirked and said,

"I told you."

I rolled my eyes and started to rock my hips back towards him. I almost laughed as the song faded to, "Give It to Me Baby" by Rick James, but Voldemort firmly gripped my hips with both his hands, slightly tilted his head up, and started to groan. My small moans turned into loud, pleasure filled ones as he quickened his pace. I don't know how much time passed before I orgasmed, but, as much as I hate to admit this, it felt great. He slammed his full length in and out of me until he violently orgasmed. He leaned over and kissed my back and neck. He slowly pulled out of me, preformed a cleansing spell, and used the back of his right hand to wipe the sweat off of his face. He told me to get off of the bed; unlike him, I needed a minute to get up, but he wasn't angry. Instead, he watched my tired, used form with a smirk. Once I was off, he picked up his wand and pointed it at the bed. He preformed a nonverbal spell so that the sheets would straighten out and become clean; we were messy. Then, he turned, turned the stereo off with his wand, and put it back on the nightstand.

Voldemort pulled the silk sheets down and got into bed. He gently slapped the area in front of him while making eye contact with me. I was much too tired to protest or put up any type of fight, so I just slowly climbed into bed beside him. I stretched my sweaty body for a minute before relaxing on the mattress. He slid his left arm underneath the pillow for extra support, and then wrapped his right arm possessively around me. I pretended that he was Draco, and nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. He breathed in deeply and preformed another nonverbal spell, but this was one to turn off the lights. Sleep easily overcame me being how I was too tired to think, but I soon woke up from another Voldemort/demon-snake nightmare. I shook violently awake, so violently, that Voldemort woke up. He immediately turned the lights on and gripped my shoulders.

"What's wrong with you?" He would have shouted, but the clock behind him said it was three in the morning, so he's probably past tired.

"I…" I caught my breath and looked up into his eyes. I was relieved to see that he is still has his young appearance. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, "I'm sleeping naked in the same bed as my rapist and just had _another_ nightmare of the first time he raped me."

He was silent, not because he didn't know what to say, but because he didn't really care.

"So… nothing, nothing is wrong." I smirked and he laughed. I breathed in deeply a few times, told myself that this is Draco, and nuzzled my head back into the crook of his neck. He magically turned the lights off, once again, put his left arm under his pillow, and put his right arm possessively around me. I sighed and, once again, let sleep overcome me. When I woke up, it was nine in the morning; I woke up alone. I rubbed my eyes for a few seconds and sat up. There was a note, written in beautiful, perfect cursive, where Voldemort's body was, it read: "I already picked your outfit for the day, – it's on the counter in the bathroom – and I want you to wear make-up; I like that pink gloss you usually wear. And take a shower, we reeked of sex this morning."

I laughed, did he really think that I was going to go _anywhere_ reeking of his sex? Psh. He shouldn't flatter himself so much. I rolled my eyes, crumpled up the note, and tossed it into the trashcan across the room. I silently congratulated myself for making it in the first try and slowly got out of bed. The second my feet touched the floor, the stereo system turned on. It started to play "Miss California" by Jack's Mannequin; at first, I couldn't figure out why he'd have this song play, but then I heard, "_…you'll be kissed by only me…_" and instantly understood.

I knew my ass would hurt in the morning, but I didn't know it would hurt this much. It wasn't like a stabbing pain, or anything, but it was very uncomfortable to walk. I was already planning on taking a long shower, but now I had too. I washed my hair and body twice before I turned the shower off, got out, and dried off. By the time I was out, "The Drop Out – The So Unknown" by Jack's Mannequin was playing.

I didn't pay much attention to it until I heard a few key phrases, "_I will give you this confession, I am taking you with me…. And your eyes were lined with questions…. Take this feeling with us to our graves…_" I gulped and ignored all the things he could have meant by planning this song. I've always liked this song, I'll be damned if he took this away from me, too.

I did my usual curly hair routine, dried it, and then hung up my towel to dry. I looked over at the counter and sighed; on the top of the pile was a Gryffindor red thong. He must have transfigured all of my purposely chosen granny–panties into thongs. I slowly slid it on, put on the matching, red and lacy bra, and then slipped the Gryffindor red, short sleeve shirt on. I slowly wiggled into my dark blue, almost black, distressed, skinny jeans. The same pair that Draco said made my "arse" look great. I then saw that he had laid out my black and white, plaid, long sleeve, baggy shirt. It was baggy in the sense of length, not in the sense of how it fits me. I slid it on and cuffed the sleeves so that they were a third of the way higher up on my arms. I proceeded to find the thin strip of fabric on the end of the sleeves and buttoned them so that they wouldn't fall while I was doing something.

I sat down at the desk that a house elf placed all my make up. I transfigured the painting on the wall to a large mirror and took my time applying my makeup. I lined my lips with my light pink pencil, and then applied a thin layer of pink lip-gloss on. I decided to go with my brownish–green eyeliner, but I only put it on my bottom lids. I didn't really want to put on any eye–shadow, but I didn't want to upset Voldemort, so I put on some dark brown eye shadow at the corner of my lids, and put a medium brown from the beginning of my eye, to half way into the dark brown. I gently smudged the two colors together until I got my desired look, then I mumbled my usual non-smear, waterproof spell on my make-up. I quickly put a butterfly clip – the style, and the physical design is a butterfly – in my hair. I put my hair a bit up and securely placed the clip just above the base of my head. I checked my hair in the mirror; it resembles a loose ponytail.

I got up, put all my things back, tucked in the chair, and magically turned off the stereo. I slipped on my red flats and slowly walked down stairs, using the railing the whole time. I quietly walked into the dinning room, hoping that no one would notice me. Surprise, surprise, Voldemort almost immediately saw me. He smirked devilishly, took a sip of water from his cup, and said, "You look nice."

An obviously fake smile crept onto my face, "Thanks." He walked over to me, wrapped his free arm, his left arm, around my waist, and walked us back over to Mr. Parkinson. For a second, I ogled at him; he smells good, he's wearing black slacks and a blue, button down shirt, and I can't help but to notice that he has the stance of an alpha male every where he goes.

I considered puking when I registered my train of thought. Who in their right mind checks out their rapist?

I pushed all those thoughts out of my head and listened to them as they continued to talk about all the arrangements that were planned for the day. Right before Mr. Parkinson answered Voldemort's question, I looked up at the handsome devil in disguise and said,

"I'm hungry."

"What?" He looked down at me.

I gulped, "I'm hungry, my Lord."

"Oh…" He snapped his fingers a few times so that a house elf would appear. He told it that I'm hungry, and within two minutes it came back with a medium sized bowl of fruit. I smiled at the creature and gently took the bowl from its hands. I listened to all the things Voldemort and Mr. Parkinson said; the only sounds that were coming from me was the quiet pattern of my breathing, and the gentle rhythm of my chewing. A few minutes after Mr. Parkinson walked out of the room to go retrieve some papers, Pansy and Draco walked into the room. He was fully clothed, but she was still checking him out.

Not that I'm jealous. They're pretty good friends; they hang out a lot during the school year. But really, his eyes are on his face, not everywhere else.

Stop that, I'm not jealous. Okay?

Pansy and I accidentally made eye contact when I removed my eyes from Draco, and she removed her eyes from Voldemort. I didn't really care, but then she glared at me. Just as Mr. Parkinson entered the room and started to walk back to Voldemort, Voldemort looked at Pansy and said, "Say that out loud."

"Wha–What?"

His annoyed facial expression matched his tone of voice. Mr. Parkinson instantly looked over at Pansy with concern.

Voldemort sighed from irritation, "What you just thought. Say it out loud."

Mr. Parkinson looked at her and said, "Say it."

Pansy gulped, breathed in deeply, and said, "Why is that slut still here?" She gulped again, "And what was the purpose of that stupid song last night? How'd it go…_Give it to me baby…I'll make you hot like you had enough_?"

She gulped as Voldemort's eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to continue, but then I said, "Oh that's enough."

Everyone's eyes immediately looked over at me.

"First of all, only he," I pointed to Voldemort, "may call me a slut, and that's only because it'd be fruitless for me to argue over it."

She was about to say something, but I kept talking.

"And the purpose of that song was…" I thought for a moment. I squeezed my hands into fake hand puppets. I moved the left one first, "You know, I'd really like to keep my anal virginity." Then I moved the right one. "Yeah? That's too bad." I smacked them together and said, "BOOM. BOOM. BOOM." I looked back up at her. "Anything else?"

Draco bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

Pansy gulped with wide eyes, "Na–No."

There was a moment of awkward silence before Voldemort looked at her again, "No, your thoughts aren't as secure as you assumed."

She looked at him with a fearful expression.

I snapped my fingers so that she'd look back at me. "Keep yo nose out my business. I may let everything slide with Voldemort over here, but trust me, I'll jump at the chance to fuck you up."

She took a step back.

"Yeah," I did a shooing motion, "get out."

She sneered at me as she turned around.

"Oooohh girl! Don't you even _look_ at me wrong; I guarantee that I'll fuck yo shit up if you do _anythang_ like that, again."

Pansy immediately rushed out of the room with Draco close behind her. I looked up at Mr. Parkinson and said, "I'm sorry for disrespecting you like that, sir."

Voldemort laughed loud and hard. He squeezed me to his side and looked at Mr. Parkinson, "Aren't Gryffindors fun? First they're feisty, and then they're polite."

Mr. Parkinson laughed and added, "I remember that during my Hogwarts days, Gryffindors were always up for a fight. I see things haven't changed that much when it comes to the personality of the houses."

I shrugged my shoulders, but didn't say anything. There was a moment of silence before Voldemort breathed in deeply and looked at the papers Mr. Parkinson brought it. I didn't bother to look at them, or give them any real thought. Why was Voldemort being so nice to me? Why was he letting me act in such ways?

None of this can be good.

He raped me, obviously that's bad.

He tortured my father both physically and mentally. Again, obviously bad.

He made me come here; I don't even need to comment on that.

He was kind of, sort of gentle with me last night. Where in _Hell_ did that come from?

Why did I enjoy his touches? RAAAHSHEEEGAABDALKFJAAA! I'm going to just forget this one. Don't ever bring it up. Ever.

And… did he just try to defend me by striking fear into Pansy? I don't even know how to begin thinking about that.

I don't like this; I don't like any of this. What I understand, I don't like. What I don't understand, I like even less.

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**A/N: I put a lot of time into this chapter, so please review.**


	11. Gossip Folks

**Chapter Eleven: Gossip Folks**

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"_There's a lot that I don't know_

_There's a lot that I'm still learning_

_When I think I'm letting go_

_I find my body it's still burning_

_And you hold me down_

_And you got me living in the past_

_Come on and pick me up_

_Somebody clear the wreckage from the blast"_

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I was bored for most of the morning and afternoon; Voldemort dragged me around the Parkinson's Manor so he could personally make sure that everything was going as planned. The gathering was going to start at seven, and I knew that I'd need at least two hours to get ready for it, so around three o'clock, I gently tugged on Voldemort's right sleeve. He looked down at me and slightly adjusted his arm. "Uhm…" I looked up at him, "Voldemort?"

Without looking at me, he replied, "What?"

"Would it be alright if I were excused from…this?"

He tightened his grip on my waist and angrily asked me, "Why?"

I gulped and looked into his angry, brown eyes. "I want to exercise, my lord."

"Oh," he smirked and withdrew his arm from around me, "Go ahead and exercise."

Mr. Parkinson looked over at me and said, "We have a small gym towards the back of the manor, you're welcome to use it, if you'd like."

I slowly started to walk away from them, "Thank you, sir, I'll go check that out."

He nodded at me and then turned back to Voldemort.

I walked up to my temporary room and changed out of my clothes and into my athletic shorts, my good exercising shoes, my sports bra, and a baggy yellow shirt. I then put my hair up and washed my make-up off. I made sure my hair is up in a secure fashion, and then walked back down to the first floor; I saw that Draco was walking towards the back of the manor, too. Pansy wasn't around, so I figured we could talk. "Hey!" I called out and jogged up to him.

"Hey," he smiled, "are you going to exercise, too?"

I looked down at my outfit, "Naaw, I wore this to seduce you."

Draco laughed and said, "I want to try out kick boxing, Mrs. Parkinson said they recently bought some equipment for it. Do you want to try it out with me?"

"Sure," I smiled, "I like kick boxing."

Draco smiled back down at me; he's about a whole foot taller than me. This doesn't bother me though; I'm at the perfect height to check out his torso without him noticing… that much.

The equipment in their gym was practically brand new, but most of it was dusty. After about five minutes of searching, Draco and I found the kick boxing equipment. We put on some fast paced music and warmed up together. I taught him how to perform a proper roundhouse kick, and how to do a real back kick, not a fling-the-leg-out type of kick. In the middle of the work out, he pulled his shirt off and smirked at me; I did the same. There were two punching bags, one was obviously meant for someone tall, and the other one was meant for someone of average height. Draco watched me do my combos, but not in a creepy way. He watched me so that he could do the same things.

After about forty minutes, Draco was exhausted. "I'm used to weights," he lightly panted, "I'm used to having to use endurance, not speed."

"Speed?" I laughed, "I'll show you what'll improve speed." I walked over to a drawer we opened earlier. I pulled out two jump ropes, one long one for him, and a short one for me. I tossed the long one at him and said, "Follow my lead."

He chuckled, "Okay."

I held the ends of the ropes in my hands, and brought my hands about six inches away from my sides. I started by doing some regular jumping, but once I saw that Draco got his rhythm down, I started to switch it up. I started to do traveling jumps; instead of just jumping up and back down, I jumped forwards and backwards, too. Draco messed up the first few times, but he got it down on his fifth try. I waited a few minutes before I went back to normal jumping, but then I started to bring my knees up into my chest.

"Jeeezz-us!" He shouted while doing his best to keep his form in good shape, but also match my speed.

I laughed at him.

"What are you," he panted, "a robot?"

I laughed harder and went back to regular jump rope, but only long enough for Draco to regain his breath.

"How is this supposed to help my speed?"

I shrugged, "I don't know."

"What?" he shouted and immediately stopped jumping.

I laughed and told him, "I can show you some running exercises that actually will help your speed, if you want."

He tossed the jump rope off to the side and put his hands on his sides, "Okay, sure."

I smiled and tossed my rope by his. I squatted the tiniest bit and had my legs out rather wide. Draco did the same, but arched his back a bit. "You have to keep your chest up, okay?"

"What?" He then brought his chest up, flattening out his back, "Okay."

I started to run in place like this, and then I ran backwards and forward, alternating between a wide stance and a narrow one. I waited for Draco to get used to this, and then to do it well before I started to move faster. Draco kept up with me, so I figured it was okay to add on. I started to run left to right, and then forwards and backwards. I curved my upper body towards the ground, opened and closed my arms, and then brought my chest up. Draco messed this move up the first time, but got it the second time. I slowly came out of my squatting position and brought my knees up as far as I could. Draco's breathing became noticeably louder, as did mine, but neither of us wanted to stop yet.

"Here's a new move," I said and wiped some sweat off of my forehead with the back of my right hand. I stood up straight and then brought my arms into a flexing position. I moved my legs into a sumo-squat stance and started to close and open my body like this, all the while, moving left to right, and sometimes forwards and back. At first, Draco didn't really see the purpose of this move, but after a few times of flexing all his muscles to accomplish the move with good form and the necessary speed, he understood. When he got this part of the move down, I brought my right elbow to my left knee, and then my left elbow to my right knee every three steps.

When Draco's form started to fail, I slowed to a stop, and he did the same thing. He panted and grabbed his water from by his shirt and gulped it down. I put the jump ropes back and then walked over to Draco. Once he was done drinking from his large bottle, he offered me some. I thanked him and then took the bottle, gulping down a third of what was left. I handed him the bottle and then picked up our shirts. I handed him his white one, and then put on my yellow one. Our sweaty bodies instantly clung to our shirts; if we weren't so tired, we probably would have made fun of each other. Instead of doing such, we saved the air we could get into our lungs and walked out of the gym. He walked up the extra floor to walk me to my room and said, "I guess I'll see you at the gathering, huh?"

"Yeah," I sighed from exhaust, "I'll see you then."

He smiled cutely, slightly goofily, to be truthful. He used his left hand to rest against the door frame, and ran his right hand up the back of his neck and through his hair. He took a few slow steps back and said, "Then…goodbye, until later."

I laughed and told him goodbye. Once he was down the hall, I closed the door and made a B line for the shower. I washed my body, took my hair down, and then washed my hair, too. I splashed some water on my face and rubbed in some gentle face wash, and washed my hair again. I shaved my whole body; I don't know how much skin the dress is going to show, but I know I don't want any hair or stubble showing. I rinsed my body and then got out of the shower. I dried off, wrapped the towel around me, and then walked into the bedroom.

I went over to my suitcase, but saw that a house elf put all of my things away in the closet, so I walked over to the closet. I pulled out a silver, used to be granny panty, thanks to Voldemort, a now silver thong. I put my towel down so I could put on my underwear, and then I found my strapless bra. I made it a little bit tighter than usual so that I wouldn't have to worry about my breasts bouncing or anything of the sort, and then picked up my towel. I walked back into the bathroom, did my usual hair routine, dried my hair with magic, and then hung up my towel. When I came out of the bathroom I jumped up a bit; Voldemort was sitting on the edge of the bed that's closest to me.

I put my right hand above my heart and said, "You couldn't announce your presence?"

His lips curled into a small smirk, "No."

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"When do you want to put your dress on?"

"After my make-up," I replied and sat down at the desk with all my make-up. I put on my primer, foundation, and then loose setting powder before continuing speaking, "I don't want to get any make-up on the dress."

"Okay," he sighed and repositioned himself so that he's sitting up against the headboard. He watched as I lined, filled, and then glossed my lips. I used my plum colored eyeliner to line my upper lids, and from the corner to middle of my eyes on my lower lids. I applied a light highlighter on my lids, and then took my purples and browns out. I picked the shades of purple that come closest to that of the necklace he wants me to wear and did my make-up in the style of smokey eyes. I searched my make-up bag for a few minutes until I found a shade of blush that matches my newly tanned skin. I applied very little of it, and I only applied it to he apples of my cheeks. Once I was satisfied with make-up, I grabbed my wand and preformed the anti-smear spell.

Voldemort got up and looked at me in the mirror. He kissed my neck, making me shudder. "I'm going to go get your dress. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I gulped, "Okay."

He smirked and left the room. I saw that there was a jar of vanilla scented lotion on the desk that wasn't here just a moment ago; Voldemort probably left it for me. I sighed and started to put some on my neck, chest, and arms. I was just starting on my legs when he came back into the room with my dress.

He laughed coldly, "You're such a good girl."

I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying anything. I finished up my legs, and rubbed the lotion left over on my hands into my hands. He walked over to me and smelt my neck. He lustfully whispered into my right ear, "It smells great on you."

I drew in a deep breath, "I didn't apply too much? It's not too strong, or anything?"

"No," he put his hands on my shoulders and turned me so that I'm facing him.

I looked up into his dark eyes, "That's too bad."

He laughed and gently stroked my face, "I'd slap you, but I don't want to ruin your make-up." I gulped and then eyed the dress he brought in. He saw me look at it; he smirked and walked over to it. He gently picked it up and took it out of the plastic covering. "Come here."

I drew in a deep breath and walked over to him.

He unzipped the dress and then opened it up a bit with his hands. With a smirk, he told me, "Get in it."

I bit down on my tongue and put my hands on his shoulders. I put my left leg in first, and then my right leg. He had me pull the dress up into place and walked behind me. The zipper started just above my butt and ended with the back of the dress, at my mid shoulder blades. He kissed the back of my neck and then brought silver heels over to me. They're four inch, open toed stilettos; the straps of the shoes start at toes and elegantly cover the foot until it reached the upper ankle. I slipped my feet into them, and then squatted down so that I can adjust the straps and tighten the straps on my ankles. I slowly stood back up and realized that I now come up to the bottom of Voldemort's ear.

He looked me over before saying, "Now you only have to do your hair."

I walked backed over to the mirror I use for applying my make-up; I grabbed some dark brown bobby pins and a dark brown butterfly clip. I put my hair up into a loose, but still neat and stylish bun. I hid the butterfly clip in the center of the bun – a trick my sister taught me for the Yule Ball. I then gently moved my bangs so that they'd be a curly version of side bangs. Before I could do anything else, Voldemort came up from behind me and put the diamond and purple stone choker on me. He then handed me purple studs; I immediately put the stone studs in my ears. He drew in a deep breath, "You look beautiful."

I gulped, "Tha—Thanks."

"Go look at yourself, there's a full length mirror in the closet."

I walked over to the closest without any reply. I turned on the light and stepped in; once I caught sight of myself, I couldn't help but to softly gasp. The dress he picked out for me is the same shade of royal purple as the stones on the necklace, and the same shade as the studs. The dress is a tube top, but an elegant tube top. The front started at just below my collarbone, but it had a heart shape plunge, highlighting and flattering my cleavage. The dress hugged my curves and ended at about my knees; I turned and saw that the back had an "X" shape just below my shoulder blades, securely connecting the front of the dress to the back of the dress while showing off a little bit of my sides. I turned to see how I look from the side; my curves were flattered to the largest degree, and so were the smoothness of my stomach and the flatness of my back.

I slowly walked out of the closet to find Voldemort tucking in his silver shirt into his black slacks. I bit the inside of my bottom lip before saying, "Thank you for the outfit, my Lord."

He smirked and slid on a matching, royal purple vest. He magically laced his black dress shoes while adjusting his black tie. He tucked his tie behind his vest, and then put on the thin, matching black jacket to his suit. He walked over to me and put his left hand on the small of my back. We walked downstairs to just outside the gathering and festivity room in complete silence. He checked the time on his silver watch, "It's seven oh seven, everyone should be here by now."

I gulped and started to breathe in deeply. What kind of people am I about to meet? Sure, the only danger I have to worry about is upsetting Voldemort; who's going to mess with the (involuntary) lover of the Dark Lord? Besides the Dark Lord, of course. Still, I'm either about to walk into Hell, or I'm about to walk into a room of beautiful monsters.

Voldemort opened the doors, lazily scanned the room, and started to walk us into the room. He had a devilish smirk glued to his face as he slowly wrapped his arm around my waist in an obviously possessive manner. He made a B-line for the empty area in the middle of the room. I timidly looked up at him; the heels made it easier to look at him, now I don't have to strain my neck. I softly spoke, "My, my Lord?"

He looked down at me with almost shinny eyes; he must be experiencing an overload of dominance, he's not only scaring me, but he is the most powerful man in this room. "Yes?"

His eye contact shot fear directly into my heart, "Shouldn't we greet someone?"

He laughed and stroked my face with his right hand. With a sigh, he told me, "Neema," his smirk widened, "Neema, Neema. _They_ come to _me_, not the other way around." He gently patted his hand against my cheek a few times before saying, "Never the other way around."

Just as he withdrew his hand, a tall man and his son approached us. The man and his son were very pale, very blonde, and very calm. "My Lord," Once Voldemort looked at him, he said, "My son," he looked at him before looking back at Voldemort, "couldn't contain his excitement, and wanted to meet you."

Voldemort smirked and looked him over, "What's your name, boy?"

He stood up straighter and replied, "My name is Edmund, my Lord."

Voldemort squeezed me to him and said, "I'm going to start marking in ten minutes, are you ready?"

A sick excitement flashed across Edmund's eyes, "Yes, sir. I've been waiting a long time for today."

"How old are you?"

"I am nineteen, sir."

"Good, good…" Voldemort stared into Edmund's eyes; Edmund blinked from pain a few times. Voldemort slowly slid his hand up and down my side, "You like her, boy?"

Edmund was obviously caught of guard, "Excuse me, my Lord?"

Voldemort chuckled coldly and looked at me, he used his right hand to gently cup my face and turned my face to be looking at Edmund. "This is Neema, do you like her?"

Edmund blushed from embarrassment and fear, "Well… She's very beautiful, sir…"

Voldemort let go of my face and hooked his thumb in his front right belt loop, his hand free to subtly frame his package. "Yes, she is extremely beautiful, that's why she's mine."

I stiffened.

Edmund gulped, "My Lord, I don't mean to be rude, but that was a given. Of course such a beautiful woman would be yours."

Voldemort lightly laughed, "Good. I'm glad you understand." Voldemort looked down at me and tenderly took my left hand in his right, "Did you hear that, Neema?"

I slowly nodded up and down.

He started to roughly squeeze my fingers, "Perhaps I'll make it official," he grinned evilly and chuckled, obviously to mock me. "Maybe I'll take you to the mansion where I hide, and I'll paint a diamond on your hand," he squeezed my ring finger, "you will be my bride." He sighed from a feeling of accomplishment; I was obviously scared, "You'll be missed, Miss California, you'll be kissed by only me," he let go of my hand to stroke my face, "When they can't find you I'm sure I'll be the one they blame, but they can't prove anything, Miss California."

I gulped from absolute fear. Damn him, damn him straight into the worst, hottest, scariest pit of Hell; may he suffer in its deepest bowel. He has destroyed my feeling of safety within my own home, he has raped me twice now, he's made me like it, therefore made me hate myself. He's slowly running my wardrobe for me, and now he's taking my music away from me, too. I hope that he's only reciting those lyrics to mock me; I hope he's not really going to force me into hiding out with him and marrying him.

He was going to say something, but more and more people started to approach us, and he had to talk to them. Every once in a while, he'd hold me in a more visually possessive way, sometimes adding a kiss to make his point clear. After a while of chatting, he checked his watch and smirked. He looked back up at all the Death Eaters and those who came to become one, "Lets get started."

The fathers and other Death Eaters backed off a bit, standing about twenty or thirty feet back. The young men who came to become Death Eaters formed a neat line in front of Voldemort that started six or so feet away from him. He gave a somewhat long, and rather intense speech about what it means to be a Death Eater. He told them about the amount of loyalty they'll have to show him, about how they're doing the world the greatest favor, how their efforts will soon be rewarded with a purer planet.

I successfully refrained from shivering in disgust. Voldemort let go of me and said, "Why don't you go stand with Pansy?"

I don't like her, at all, but I like him much less. I quickly walked away from him and stood next to Pansy. We were both silent, her, out of disgust for me. I was silent out of fear; all I want to do is go home, all I want to do is go back to the old me, the old life I had. When my family and I lived only twenty minutes from London, when we were all still happy.

Voldemort looked over at me and winked.

I shuddered.

He then smirked and called the boys, one by one, to kneel at his feet. He had them take off their jackets, pull up their left sleeves, and stay as still as possible in a lunge position. I bit the inside of my bottom lip to keep from laughing; Voldemort looked like he was going to jizz in his pants when he gave the Dark Mark. It hurt the boys quite a bit, that much was obvious. It burnt their skin and quickly formed into the Dark Mark tattoo; those who screamed where almost immediately crucioed. He explained why he did this very briefly, "You must learn to overcome pain; only the weak experience pain. You are a Death Eater now, we are not weak."

I gulped with fear when it was Draco's turn to get his Dark Mark, Pansy gulped in excitement. She always loved the Dark Arts, she didn't love it enough to become a Death Eater herself, but to see someone she could picture marrying be a Death Eater was an apparent source of delight. Draco drew in a deep breath and repeated the words that Voldemort told him to repeat.

I said a silent prayer, begging the real Lord to protect Draco's soul as he said, "I, Draco Malfoy, vow my loyalty and my being to the Dark Lord, Voldemort."

I squeezed my upper arms tightly, bit the inside of my bottom lip, and made eye contact with Draco. At first, he didn't want to, but now it's my turn to help him. He helped me when Voldemort raped me, he helped me when Voldemort made me sick with myself. He even spent a whole day with me, doing things he doesn't really care for, and he spent the night with me. He didn't make any sexual advances, he just held me so I could have one night of peace. It was only right for me to help him now; Voldemort is raping him, too. Sure, it's not in the same way, but it's just as painful, just in a different physical way. The pain will linger in his arm as it lingered in my bruises, his heart will ache just like how mine aches.

I didn't dare break my eye contact with him; I knew if I did he would scream from the pain. I had to be strong for him, I had to be; he stared at me, begging for an escape from the pain, I stared back, begging him to use his legilimency. I opened my mind to him; it stung as his inner ears entered my mind, but I didn't show it. I saw him cringe from the sting of the Dark Mark, "_You are strong, you are not feeling pain. You. Are. Strong._"

He gulped and mouthed the words to me.

I nodded, "_I don't care what happens, you will always be strong; you are smart, and you are one of the best._" I wasn't all that sure on what "the best" meant, but I know he needed to hear it. After what seemed like two eternities, his initiation was completed. Voldemort told him to get up onto his feet; Draco shot up without any question or comment. Voldemort smirked and said,

"You're the first not to scream." His lips formed into a sick smile as his eyes examined Draco. He squeezed Draco's left shoulder, "You will be very useful to The Cause."

Draco drew in a deep breath, "I will put all my energy into everything I can do, my Lord."

"Good," Voldemort smirked wickedly and let go of Draco, "Good." Voldemort sighed after thirty seconds of silence, "Go stand with my sweet," he licked his lips, "_sweet_ Neema."

I shuddered.

Draco gulped and said, "Yes, sir."

Draco walked over to me and stood in between Pansy and I. Pansy eagerly examined Draco's Dark Mark. She congratulated him and gently touched it, but he immediately pulled it away. He quietly whispered, "It hurts."

"Oh… sorry."

"It's okay."

I looked at him and said, "Let me see it."

He moved his body to face me. I gently held his arm with my right hand and soothingly traced the red area around his Dark Mark with my left index and middle fingers. My skin was warm, but when compared to the temperature of his Dark Mark, I was ice cold. I slowly started to trace his actual Dark Mark; he gave me a curious look and whispered, "Why doesn't your touch hurt?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know," I looked up into his hurt, grey eyes, "because we're both victims of circumstance?"

A small smile crept onto his face, "Maybe."

I smiled back up at him and drew a heart on his inner arm with my fingertips, "Maybe."

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**A/N: Please review! Reviews have a special place in my heart, and it's begging to be filled. C:**

**A/N: I was daydreaming a few hours ago, and I ended up with a pretty good idea for a new story. If you like reading my stuff, and you'd be interested in reading another story of mine, please say so in my review area. If I get enough reviews telling me that there is interest in a new story, I'll be happy to put a small summary of my idea in an authors note in the next chapter of this.**

**Just so you know, if I start another story, it doesn't mean that I'll ignore this one. I'm really into "My Derailment", so I'll have to update this story at a slightly slower pace, but I'll still update frequently.**


	12. Bruised

**Chapter Twelve: Bruised**

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**(Draco's P.O.V.)**

The gathering ended close to midnight; when it was over, Pansy and I hung out in her room. I made myself comfortable on the small couch she has against the right wall, untied my tie, and drew in a deep breath.

I looked away as she got into her pajamas, "What's up with that Neema girl?"

Not quite sure if I should look up yet, I stared down at my lap, "What do you mean?"

"Why is she here? She _obviously _isn't into the Dark Arts. She's an _oh so _noble, Gryffindor. What's she doing with Voldemort?"

My jaw clenched, I closed my eyes, and I sighed. "She didn't come here willingly."

I heard Pansy sit down across from me on her bed, so I looked up. She started to brush her shoulder length hair and said, "What do you mean?"

I looked over at her door, it's closed, and then I looked back at her. "He's raping her."

She laughed, partly in disbelief, partly because she's always had a weird feud with Neema, "What?"

I ran my hands through my hair and leaned back into her couch. While staring up at her green ceiling, I repeated myself, "She didn't come her willingly, he forced her to come, and he's raping her."

She stared at me with her mouth slightly open, "But he's so… so _cute_—"

"Not the first time," I snapped bitterly.

She put her brush down on her bed and leaned forward, "What?"

I looked down from her ceiling and sighed as we made eye contact. I moved my right hand in front of my face in a slightly twisting motion before saying, "He had his snake face," I put my hand back behind my head, "the first time he raped her."

Pansy slowly got off of her bed and sat down next to me on her couch. She turned her upper body to face me, "How do you know that?"

I swallowed the spit in my mouth, drew in a deep breath, and fought back my tears. "We were having a meeting, my father and Voldemort and a few others,"

Pansy nodded to show that she was following me.

"Her and her sister Drea,"

"I remember Drea, she's pretty cool."

I turned my head to the right, "Yeah, she is."

"Anyway?"

"Anyway," I swallowed my spit again, "their music was _so_ loud, it was amazing that blood wasn't coming from their ears."

Pansy laughed at that.

"Voldemort got angry and made us go over to investigate why the music was so loud. Neema and Drea were dancing, and Neema was wearing these, I don't know, these clothes that fit her really well, you know?"

Pansy nodded; with a small hint of jealousy, she said, "Sure, I guess."

"And Voldemort immediately thought that she was the hottest thing he's ever seen, you could see it in his face. It was sickening, how he was looking at her. I, I don't know how to describe the evil, vile things his face expressed…" I sighed.

Pansy started at me with interest, she wanted to hear the rest.

"He came up behind her and told her he liked her dancing, or something. She was obviously scared, he made her dance in front of everyone. You know how clean cut she is, too,"

Pansy nodded.

"Well, she had to get high to calm down. Drea got her high and then rushed out of the room, you could hear her puke as the doors swung shut."

Pansy cringed the slightest bit.

I gulped before continuing, "He made her dance to sexy songs, and then he made her straddle him and he kissed her, with his evil, snake, red eyes looking into her, forcing her to do horrible things. He raped her in front of us, he was even laughing as she cried." I stifled back a small cry, "She looked to me for help, but there wasn't anything I could do. So when he fucked her against the wall—"

"Against the wall?"

"Yeah."

"…Wow." She didn't say it with anything besides curiosity and disgust.

"Anyway, when he fucked her against the wall, she looked at me, so I took my shirt off and thrusted into the air. It was all I could do for her, I…she needed someone, _anyone_ to help her, and we all just watched. I couldn't live with myself if she forever remembered orgasming because of Voldemort, so I helped her pretend it was me fucking her."

Pansy squeezed my right shoulder as some tears started to form in my eyes, "You did all that you could. What happened to her wasn't your fault."

"Thanks… And I know." I wiped my tears away, "As if that wasn't bad enough," I let out a pained, nervous laugh, "he made Lestrange rape her, too. Her dad's best friend of like… I don't know, since their Hogwarts years."

Pansy cringed.

I stayed silent for a few minutes, "He made her own father make him his youth potion, and he tried to rape her in his own den."

"Oh God! That's… Not surprising, but still sick."

We laughed at her statement. "He probably would have raped her again, but she called for her dad just in time. He tried to do it in front of Nasier, but she ended up punching his nads."

Pansy laughed at my last sentence.

"He screamed at her and told her to leave, but she collapsed and started sobbing, so I picked her up and took her to her room." I felt my Dark Mark throb a bit. I looked down at it and scrunched up my face.

"What's wrong?" Pansy looked at my Dark Mark, "Why's it doing that?"

"I don't know, but be quiet for a minute."

"What?"

"Just be quiet for a minute."

She was quiet, but she wasn't happy. She folded her arms across her chest as I strained my ears. At first, the noise was faint, but the more I focused on it, the louder it became. I gulped and looked at Pansy.

"What?"

I pointed down to my Dark Mark, "This throbs," then I pointed up to the room directly above hers, "When he does."

She scrunched her face up from disgust and confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Listen," I poked my finger up in the air a few times. I could see her emptying her mind of all her thoughts and do her best to listen to what she thinks is silence. After almost a minute, she looked at me,

"Are… are they having sex?"

I bit my tongue; "He's raping her, right now."

Pansy sneered and chuckled once, "Sounds like she's enjoying herself."

I shot up off of the couch and pointed to my Dark Mark. "If she doesn't moan he hurts her! He physically brings her pain if she doesn't moan for him! He slaps her around if she forces herself to be quiet!"

Pansy leaned away from me and raised her right eyebrow, "Forces herself to be quiet?"

"Argh!" I shouted and started to pace back and forth, "He touches her where she likes, but she doesn't like to be touched by him, okay?"

"Okay, okay."

I sat down across from her on her bed. I pointed to my Dark Mark again, "You know her dad is a Death Eater, too?"

"Yeah,"

With a weak voice, I said, "His is probably throbbing, too."

There was a moment of silence before Pansy said, "Oh…God, that's so… That poor man."

I nodded in agreement, "If his is throbbing too, he's probably figured out what's happening to Neema."

We sat in silence; Pansy never liked Neema, and Neema never liked Pansy. Before this summer, Pansy liked to talk a lot of shit about Neema behind her back, especially when she started to lose a lot of weight, and I would go with it. Neema and I were friends when we were young, but over the years, we grew apart and grew into different people. Pansy and I have always been very close friends, we even went to the Yule Ball together. It always felt like we should be more than friends, but we never really felt it. We tried to force the feelings, but it never came; our relationship strong and close, but not romantic. Sure, we found each other attractive; Pansy wasn't pretty on the first look. If you only looked at her once you would think her plain, but if you kept looking at her, you would see that she is pretty. She wasn't gorgeous, she didn't make heads turn, but her face was pretty, and she could clean up very well.

For example, tonight she looked really good. She wore a green dress that emphasized her small breasts, and the low cut of her dress actually brought a lot of focus to her strong jaw line, as well. Her straight hair was down, but she styled it to frame her face. She even wore some make-up, she didn't wear a lot, but it still looked nice. The only thing that made her slightly unattractive was here anger and jealousy for Neema. Pansy didn't like to be near her in class, she obviously wasn't thrilled to hear that Neema will be staying in her home. On top of that, she can't even deny that Neema is beautiful. Neema always had a pretty face, but when she got in shape, my God. She often turned heads at Hogwarts; even us Slytherin boys, who hated her, would look at her. Of course we had beautiful girls in the Slytherin House, but there was just something about the forbidden that attracted us. We're Slytherin's for Pete's sake! We're practically taught that the forbidden is ours to take, but there were things we shouldn't even look at, and one of those things is a beautiful Gryffindor girl.

When we talked about her, though, we spoke of how much of a failure she must be. How could the daughter of a very skilled, very successful wizard, and a Death Eater, be in Gryffindor, and like it? Her brother, Gaston, was in Ravenclaw, but that's no surprise, because their mother was a Ravenclaw, too. Just like their father, Drea was sorted into Slytherin, where Gryffindor came from, no one really knew. There were very few Gryffindors in their family tree; most of them were from many, many years ago.

All through the gathering, the men and their sons looked at Neema. Partly because Voldemort was holding her tightly to his side, partly because they've never seen her before, and of course, because the dress she was wearing made her look like some sort of purple Goddess. Her curves were extremely emphasized by the dress she was wearing, her heels made her legs look even better, her make-up was fantastic, and her hair looked great. There was no denying that she was beautiful, and there was no way to deny that she was scared to the very marrow of her bones. Voldemort held her tightly to his side; he was very possessive with her, she couldn't go anywhere without him holding on to her. When other men looked at her for a second too long, he would kiss her and hold her face in place for him.

My thoughts were interrupted as the squeaking of the bed grew significantly louder. It wasn't hard to hear his heartless groans, or her fear filled moans. I felt nauseous, and Pansy shuddered, whether that was out of jealousy, disgust, or sympathy for Neema, I didn't know. Pansy always liked the Dark Arts, and now that Voldemort had his youthful, handsome appearance back, she was even more jealous of Neema. Pansy's attracted to power, and who's more powerful in her life than Voldemort? Plus, she's been checking him out non-stop. She practically drooled over his new physique; I'm not gay, but I can admit that the youthful Voldemort is very handsome. Even his _**hair**_ is handsome, if that's possible. His eyes are dark, the same shade as his hair, his eyebrows are perfect, he has long lashes and thin lips. He has a strong and masculine jaw line, and the build of the ideal protector; tall, broad shoulders, etc… He is the man that woman would kill each other over; women stared at him everywhere he went. Albania, Germany, or any other country that offered him new Death Eaters and more power, the women there would drool at his feet.

Of course Pansy wanted to be his woman. She hated that Neema was the one glued to his side, doing everything she wanted to do when it came to Voldemort. The only type of involvement she wanted with the Dark Arts was when she was with the young members of the Order of Phoenix; she joined Dumbledore's Army last year, and she's been studying a lot to become a lawyer of sorts; she believes that the best way to change lives is to go through the way our magical world is ran. Her back up plan was to become an auror; if she couldn't bring them to justice, then she'd capture them. When she ranted about how life is now, she'd rant about how many human rights are being broken, about how no one deserves this fear and misery, and that those who cause it should be brought to justice. She never said punished, she always said, "brought to justice."

My Dark Mark tensed, and then felt like it was going to explode out of my arm as I heard her scream and the bed stop squeaking. I swallowed my spit in an attempt not to puke, then I looked over at Pansy and stood up. "I have to go to bed. I'm exhausted."

"That's good," she got up and stretched, "I have to go to bed because I'm disgusted."

We laughed for a minute before I gave her a friendly hug goodnight.

I waited by her door until she got into bed, then I turned off her light, walked out of her room, and softly closed the door behind me. I ran my hands up my neck and into my hair while I walked across the hall to the room I'm staying in while I'm here. I relieved myself and then washed my face and brushed my teeth, but I still felt sick. I drew in a few deep breaths, but that didn't really help much. So I just gave up on trying to make myself feel physically better and stripped down to my boxers. I put my wand down on the nightstand to the left of my bed; I was going to situate myself in the bed, but then I saw a curious, black object. When I approached it, I realized that it was a small speaker. I fiddled with it for a few minutes before I figured out how to work the speaker. I turned it on and let it read my mood and play a song. At first, I walked to my bed in silence, but just before I was going to lie down, there was a light knock at my door.

I sighed and lazily walked over, when I opened it, I found a very disheveled and distressed Neema leaning against the wall next to the door. I quickly opened the door wider and told her to come in. As I closed the door, a muggle song that I didn't recognize started to play. "_I'm looking for a sign, my sprits faded, she holds on like a vine…" _

"Ne—Neema! What's wrong?"

She immediately broke down; I caught her just in time. I held her tightly and let her cry on my chest. I gently picked her up and seated us on my bed. I moved her frizzed, messy hair out of her face and looked down at her.

_ "__I keep waiting for my breath to come back, never, so take what I have left…"_

After she caught her breath, she told me in a cracked voice, "He…I…"

I held her with my right arm and stroked her hair with my left hand, "Take your time. It's okay."

She sniffled, "He was mocking me afterwards, he asked me all sorts of stupid questions and he was laughing at my answers. I… I thought it'd be okay to laugh, too. God knows I need a laugh." She cuddled into my chest, "He asked me how it was."

I cringed.

She sniffled again, "And I joked around, saying that it could have been better… and… and he just snapped." She started to sob into my chest again.

"_That pulls just like my heart, race in the dark, in time to catch you. No one should let you go wandering off into the night; you're not an orphan."_

"And he got up and started to slap me around, and hit me." I looked down at her again, only now I noticed her bruises. It's not that they weren't apparent when she walked in, but they're starting to darken now. She had them all over her face, she probably had them all over her body, but she was wearing a large, baggy red shirt.

"_Right there to catch you, I won't forget you. Now you're wandering to the night, but you're no orphan."_

She gulped and rested her body against my chest, "He screamed at me to get out, he didn't care where I slept or if I slept at all… So I thought I'd come down here."

I slowly rocked us forwards and backwards and whispered, "Do you want to take a shower?"

She sniffled again, "Yes, but it's hard for me to stand…. It was a miracle that I could walk to your room."

I was about to ask why, but judging by the loudness of the beds creaks, and the fact that she's all beaten and bruised up, I figured her body was past sore; it probably felt broken. "Well… You don't have to say yes if you're not comfortable with this," I drew in a deep breath, "but I could wash you."

She cringed; obviously she doesn't want anyone touching her. She was just raped, _again_, and then she was beaten. I'm sure all she wants to do is cry, but I think that she'd love to get his smells off of her body. She softly sighed against my chest, "I'd appreciate that Draco, but—."

"I won't tell anyone about it, I won't touch you inappropriately, I just think that you'd feel a lot better if you could… If you could get his stench off of you."

"_I never thought the day would come, they tell me that you've finally run. I guess you always said you would someday."_

Her silent tears freely ran down her cheeks, "I would feel better."

I picked her up and walked into the bathroom; "Do you want me to stay in my boxers?"

Neema drew in a deep breath, "I don't care. Whatever you want."

I sat her down on the countertop by the sink, "I'm taking them off, but—"

She cut me off, "You don't have to explain yourself," she looked up into my eyes, "I trust you."

I smiled weakly and dropped my boxers. She looked down at my penis; her eyes widened, and she tilted her head a little bit to the right while a small smile of approval crept onto her face. I fought off a smirk and looked back into her eyes. We made awkward eye contact for a second before she looked away and took off her baggy shirt. A small gasp left my lips as I saw that her whole upper body is bruised and had numerous scratches. I walked over to the nightstand, grabbed my wand, and walked back into the bathroom. I pointed my wand at the shower and transfigured the empty shelves into railings. I pointed my wand at Neema, but before she could ask what I was doing, I preformed a cleansing spell on her. Her hips wiggled a bit; that bastard came in her, and then beat her, and then tossed her out like garbage.

I gulped and then put my wand down near Neema, and then picked her up. I magically turned the shower to a little past warm, and told Neema to try to keep herself up by holding onto the railings.

"Okay," she gripped the railings; her arms are still strong, it's just her legs that are failing her. I grabbed some soap while the water gently rained down on her beautiful, but broken form. I started at her neck, and then I rubbed the soap in circles on her shoulders, her arms, her back, and then her chest. She giggled; I must have tickled her when I ran the soap over her sides. She stared into my eyes while I gently ran my hands over her in order to rinse the soap off of her body. I drew in a deep breath as I started to run the soap in circles on her lower body. Her body tensed as I started at her hips, then moved onto her outer legs. I ran the soap up her inner legs and backside as fast as I could; neither of us were comfortable with this, but it needed to be done. I put the soap back in the in-wall soap tray, rinsed my hands, and then quickly rinsed her body. Just as I went to turn the water off, Neema softly whispered,

"Draco?"

I looked into her eyes, "Yes?"

"Uhm…" She nervously bit her bottom lip, "Could, err, will you hold me up so I can wash my hair?"

"Sure…" I put my hands under her arms as I would to pick up a baby. She grabbed a shampoo that was on a very close shelf, squirted some shampoo onto the palm of her right hand, put the bottle back, and then rolled her palms together. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and then started to wash her hair. After she thoroughly lathered her hair, she ran her fingers through it a few times, and then rinsed. She rinsed her hands and then tried to grab a conditioner, but she couldn't quite reach it, so I mumbled a spell so that the railings would go back to being shelves. I lifted her about six inches off of the ground, and then brought her closer to the conditioner.

She looked into my eyes for a few seconds, "Thanks."

I swallowed the spit in my mouth, "You're welcome." After she squirted the necessary amount of conditioner for her hair, she put it down and I put her back under the water and on the ground. She took her time applying and rinsing the conditioner from her hair. When she was done, she rinsed her hands and magically turned off the water. I carried her out of the shower and sat her back down onto the counter top. I grabbed my wand, pointed it at her, and magically dried her, then I did the same thing to myself.

I softly said, "Wait here,"

As I started to walk away, she laughed. "Where am I going to go?"

I chuckled and looked at her over my right shoulder, "I suppose you could try to apperate."

She playfully rolled her eyes, "If I was capable of such an action, surely I would have done it long ago."

I shrugged my shoulders while grabbing a pair of boxers for me, and a shirt and boxers for her. "That's hardly the point." I turned off the stereo, put on my boxers, and walked back over to her. She lifted her arms up to allow me to put the shirt on her. It fit me well, but it was pretty loose on her. I picked up the boxers from where I placed them on the counter, squatted down a little bit, and slipped them on her. When I got to her thighs, she lifted her hips long enough to slip them the rest of the way on.

She smiled up at me, "Thank you."

I weakly smiled back, "You're welcome." I pulled her into my chest, but quickly changed my handling of her into bridal style. She leaned into my chest until I slowly and gently put her down on the left side of the bed. I went back into the bathroom to grab my wand, as I put it down on the nightstand I saw that she had already pulled the covers up to her chest. I couldn't help but to smile as I laid down under the covers. I magically turned off the lights and made myself comfortable on my side, staring at her in the dark. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, I asked her, "Do you want me to hug you?"

She didn't say anything for the longest thirty seconds of my life. I gulped and was about to take back my statement, but I felt a light change of weight in the bed, and realized that she was scooting closer to me. She didn't stop until she was snuggled into my chest; I wrapped my left arm around her waist and placed my hand on the small of her back while she lightly pressed her hands against my chest nuzzled her face into the crook of my neck.

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She was still asleep when I woke up at eight, so I didn't move until she woke up at nine. When she woke up, she cutely yawned and stretched her body against mine. I lightly stroked her back and whispered, "Do you want to go get some breakfast?"

"Mhm," she drew in a deep breath, "but I want to go to the bathroom first."

Before I could get up, she gently pushed herself away from me and slowly got out of bed. She stood up for a moment and took a small step away from the bed. Smiling, she looked into my eyes, "My body's sore, but it feels a lot better."

I sat up, stretched my arms, and yawned. "That's good."

She nodded her head up and down and went to my bathroom. A few minutes later, she came out of the bathroom with a sloppy side ponytail. I asked her to wait for me as I went to the bathroom; when I got out, I saw that she was wearing a pair of my socks. She looked at me and rushed out, "I'll take them off, if you want. I'm just cold."

I shrugged my shoulders, "S'okay, I don't mind."

She smiled and met me at the door of the room. We quietly walked down stairs to the first floor; only a few inches separated us. We quietly entered the kitchen and searched the fridge for some food. There was a lot of food, but most of it wasn't breakfast food. When we finally did find something to eat, we quietly sat down next to each other at a small, near by table. We ate in silence, occasionally looking at each other. Her bruises have darkened over night; they're deep purples now, and they're more apparent then ever. I cringed and looked down at my food.

When we were halfway through our breakfast, Mr. Parkinson and Voldemort came in. Neema instantly tensed, her breathing became faster, and her feet tapped the air bellow them. I slowly scooted closer to her; Voldemort saw my small attempt at protection and laughed. He looked over at her and said, "Oh, Neema, sweetie,"

She drew in a deep, angry breath.

"Why didn't you wear any make-up this morning, or get dressed? I left an outfit on the bed for you."

She gulped angrily, "Draco's clothes are comfortable," if she gripped her fork any harder, it'd probably break in two, "and I thought you did a pretty good job at coloring my face."

Voldemort's anger instantly shot into the sky. He angrily walked towards her with Mr. Parkinson snickering the whole time. Neema ignored Voldemort for a minute to make eye contact with Mr. Parkinson. She stood up, waved her fork at him, and said,

"You wouldn't _dare_ laugh if my father was here!"

Voldemort laughed, "Because he protects you so well."

Neema ignored him, but started to shake; I couldn't tell if it was out of fear or anger. "And you _definitely _wouldn't be laughing if this was happening to Pansy instead of me!"

Voldemort stood at the other side of the table and cruelly stared at her with a twisted smile.

Mr. Parkinson was silent, but it was obvious that he was angry. A sixteen-year-old girl just made him feel pathetic, of course he's annoyed.

With a very cold, demanding voice, Voldemort told her, "Come here,"

She locked gazes with him, "No."

His jaw tensed, "Come here," his eyes flashed over to me, but before he could say anything else, Neema rolled her eyes and slowly made her way around the table. Once she was close, he grabbed her by the throat and pressed her against the wall behind him.

She put her left hand on his and tried to loosen his fingers, but it was useless, he's much stronger than her. She rasped out, "The only type of person who would threaten," she drew in the deepest breath possible, "a loved one of their actual victim," she breathed in again. After a moment of breathing, she loudly spat out, "is a **coward**!"

Voldemort used his right hand to slap her across the face. Just as his hand made contact with the left side of her face, her right hand sprung from her side; she stabbed him in the bicep with her fork. He screamed from surprise and pain, causing him to let go of her. The stab was shallow, but the fork _is _pretty damn sharp. She acted as fast as her chance arrived. She started to slap and punch at a surprised, angry, and injured Voldemort.

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**A/N: Please review! I put a lot of time into this chapter, and I would truly appreciate hearing from you/reading what you think.**

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A/N: I've decided to start the story I was talking about in an authors note in chapter eleven. I'm naming it, "Holiday From Real" and the first chapter should be up within twenty-four hours. Please give it a look once I have it up; I'll appreciate all story hits/views and reviews. Thank you. :)**


	13. Don't Panic, Don't Panic

**Chapter Thirteen: Don't Panic, Don't Panic**

**(Back to Neema's P.O.V.)**

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I kicked at his shins, then the other side of his knees so that he'd fall down. Once he was down, I kicked him in the stomach a few times. When he was gasping for breath, I flipped him onto his stomach and securely straddled his legs. I held him down by the throat with my left hand and I continuously punched his face and chest with my right. "NOT SO TOUGH WITHOUT YOUR MAGIC, HUH?"

His shrieks and my curses caused Mrs. Parkinson, Pansy, the Death Eaters that spent the night, and the Parkinson's house elves to rush into the room. He tried to free himself with a lame attempt at a kick, but I scooted up onto his chest, turned from my waist, and hit his balls three times. He screamed from the pain and his body tingled with the pain. I scooted back down on his legs, put my left hand back on his throat, and raised my right hand towards the counter; his wand came flying into my hand. I waved the wand up and down his body, stared into his eyes, and mumbled a spell. He shivered, the coldness of the floor against his now naked body shocked him. With a raspy voice, he said, "Get up and let go before I—"

"BEFORE YOU WHAT?" I screamed and spat into his right eye.

"GAAH!" He tried to slap me away, but I quickly pinned his wrists down with both my hands.

"How does it feel," I tilted my head sweetly to the side, "Voldie, sweetie?"

Everyone was frozen from confusion and shock. Were they supposed to help him, or was this strictly between he and I?

"How does it feel to be the one naked and abused in front of a group of people? Do you like it?"

He didn't answer me; he angrily drew in a deep breath instead.

I let go of his left hand and slapped him hard across the face, "HOW DOES IT FEEL?"

"Great," he laughed. During my split second of confusion, he used his right hand to shove me off of him. He grabbed his wand from where I dropped it and clothed himself. Just as he was finishing, I jumped up, grabbed his wand, and tossed it to the side. He turned to slap me, but I caught his hand. I put all my energy and power into a right hook; I let go of him just in time for him to fall back down. I picked up his wand with my right hand and pointed it down at his chest,

"You're not very powerful without your Devil magic."

Voldemort put his hands on his chest and laughed, "_Devil magic_? I'm flattered, really."

I glared at him and stepped back a few feet. He slowly rose to his feet and looked at a scared and frozen in place Draco. He stretched his right hand out towards him, "Give me your wand, boy."

Draco started to shake as he slowly slid his hand down the right side of his boxers; his wand is tucked away in his waistband. He looked over at me with apologetic eyes. I told him, "It's okay. I want you to."

Voldemort laughed while Draco tossed his wand into Voldemort's hand. Voldemort looked into my angry eyes; with a taunting tone, he said, "Is little, sweet Neema going to use _Devil_ _magic_?"

I gripped his wand tightly in my hand and raised it until it was aimed at the rock that pumps blood through his body. "I'd just beat you, but there's no challenge in that."

Voldemort laughed and rolled his eyes, "Purple is just your favorite color?" He waved Draco's wand in a circle, he was obviously circling my face.

I bit the inside of my bottom lip before realizing that I've totally lost my mind. Sure, what was I going to lose by beating him up? He has raped me, he has beaten me, and he has tortured my family. He's ruined my wardrobe, my music, and he's going to take Hogwarts a part from the inside out. He's already taken my life. I laughed, and I laughed some more.

A slight look of confusion flashed across his face, "What are you laughing at?"

I giggled and then looked up at him, "You know, a very wise wizard once told me something."

He sneered, "Is that so?"

"Oh yes," I nodded my head up and down once, "He told me that you're a rich girl, and that you've gone too far 'cause you know it don't matter anyway. He also told me that you can get along and try to be strong," I waved my wand to make it apparent that I'm talking about him, "but you'll never be strong."

"Who told you that?" He laughed at me.

I stroked my chin with my left hand, "Now that I think of it, it was Hall and Oates who told me that." I laughed and ran to behind the counter. The Death Eater's quickly got out of my way as I pranced to behind the counter, "They also told me that it's easy to hurt others when you can't feel pain." Before Voldemort could reply, I shot a banishing spell his way.

He jumped out of the way just in time. He screamed with rage and shot a spell back at me. I ducked, laughed, and ran behind various pieces of kitchen furniture. Voldemort is physically strong, and he's obviously a much better wizard than I, but I am much faster, and I'm much more flexible. He started to shoot spells at random pieces of furniture, "WHERE ARE YOU?"

I laughed while I jumped on his back. He shouted from anger and surprise, especially when I started to slap his eyes with the tip of his wand. I bit down on his neck until I drew blood. Then, I hopped off of him and drew my knee straight up in between his legs. He shouted and collapsed onto the floor. I stepped on his wand hand and giggled while he screamed at me. I picked up Draco's wand, tossed it towards Draco, and put his wand between my right ear and my skull. I straddled Voldemort and slowly undressed him. Once he was down to his boxers, I looked up into his eyes. He smirked, "Couldn't help yourself?"

"No," I blushed and licked my lips.

Voldemort decided to mock me further, "Missed a crowd watching us?"

I giggled and shrugged, "You could say that."

Voldemort sighed with perverted delight, "Now everyone can know that you're a slut."

I laughed and punched him again.

He shouted in agony and tried to flip me over, but I got up and sat back down once he was on his stomach. I punched him repeatedly in the back and laughed while he screamed and fought off tears. "How does it feel?" I leaned forward until my lips were right next to his right ear, "You slut."

Voldemort laughed, but then shouted from anger and pain when I slapped his face into the floor. He elbowed my hip, causing me to jerk backwards and his wand to fall near his hand. He magically flung Draco over the table next to us. Draco grabbed his wand just as Voldemort apperated us into my living room. My parents jumped from surprise when Draco flew into a wall and when Voldemort and I slammed into the floor. I was dazed, but so was he. I quickly straddled him and started to punch his face and chest again. My father rushed my mother out of the room while I screamed at Voldemort, "YOU LIKE IT, HUH? HAD TO COME BACK HERE FOR A REALER FEELING?"

Voldemort pushed me off of him in between punches. I rolled off of his body, but quickly sprang to my feet. My father and Draco stared as Voldemort sprang to his feet, the blood from his nose sprayed onto the carpet. "You want a physical fight? Fine."

I grinned from happiness, "This time, I'm not going to be the one crying and puking on the floor."

"What?" My father shouted. He was protectively standing in front of Draco; he couldn't protect me, but he could help Draco. "He! WHAT? He!" My dad angrily stared at Voldemort, "WHAT?"

Voldemort laughed, "Oh Nasier… Didn't you feel your Dark Mark?"

My father pulled the closest painting off of the wall and slammed it onto the ground. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE TORTURING A DEATH EATER!"

Voldemort turned to face my father and laughed, giving me the perfect opportunity to jump onto his back. The sudden force of my body against him made him topple forward, slamming back down onto the floor. I pushed him into the floor with my left hand on his back while entangling my right hand into his thick hair. I drew his head up and then slammed it back down; he screamed.

He eventually tossed me off of him and did some more physical damage to me, but I hurt him much more than he did to me. His eyes were almost red with rage as he picked up his wand and pointed it at me. He was about to crucio me, but I started to shake uncontrollably and I didn't know why. This was _clearly _coming, if anything, I'm lucky that he's just going to crucio me. Voldemort stared at me curiously while I started to quickly shrink in size. I looked down at my feet, but saw brown paws.

Voldemort turned sharply towards my father, "Why didn't you tell me that she's an animagus?"

My father stared down at me with his mouth wide open. He looked up at Voldemort and said, "My lord, I didn't know!"

Voldemort looked at him angrily.

My father dropped to his knees and said, "Lord Voldemort," he pointed to his head with his right index finger, "Please, search my mind if you do not believe me. I swear, I did not know." Now don't go and get the wrong idea about my father. He's not a coward, but he knows that he can't somehow get me out of this if Voldemort tortures him to death.

Voldemort drew in a deep breath, "I won't waste my time with that. It's obvious that you didn't know." Voldemort started to scan the room for me, but I was already at his feet, peeing on his toes. He looked down at me and screamed from anger. I sprinted away, but he followed me. Luckily, cats can run up to thirty miles an hour, and he can't. I ended up circling him, and then climbed up his body with my claws. He howled from the feeling, but gripped me with bone crushing strength when I clawed at his jaw. He tossed me into the wall; my father cringed and cried at the sound of my pained meow.

Voldemort pointed his wand at his feet and magically cleaned off the pee. Then he waved his wand around his body, magically healing all of the damage I've done. He picked up his clothes and quickly got dressed before sneering down at my damaged, little cat body. He pointed his wand at me and immediately started to crucio me. My body almost completely lifted from the floor from the pain; I ended up hitting myself in the face with my tail and accidentally clawed my own sides. He laughed and stopped crucioing me for a minute; my body shook and slowly grew back into my human form. My dad tried to block out the sounds of my pained pants while I tried to block out of the sounds of his puking.

Voldemort laughed, bent down, and slapped me across the face. "From now on," he smirked and roughly cupped my face in the palm of his left hand, "I will be living here,"

My father puked a little bit more.

"And I will be living in your room with you."

I turned onto my left side and puked on his shoes.

Voldemort slapped me across the face, again, and then magically cleaned his shoes. "Draco," He hissed while standing back up.

"Ye—Yes, sir?"

Voldemort looked over at him with no emotion on his face or in his voice, "Go tell your father to send all of my belongings over here, tell him to have his house elves put it in Neema's room."

He looked back down at me with a smirk before telling Draco, "Tell the elves not to put anything away."

Draco gulped, "Yes, sir."

Voldemort looked up at him, "Go."

Draco rushed out, "Yes, sir." He walked to the door-less frame of the living room, but once he rounded the corner he sprinted out.

Voldemort sighed, "Weak. Weak and pathetic." He crucioed my father for… probably fun, and then magically cleaned up the room. All the horrible smells were gone; the blood disappeared from the carpet, and the painting my father smashed flew back into one piece, and then back onto the wall. Voldemort then waved his wand over my body; all my pain immediately left my body, but my bruises and scratches staid. "Now Neema,"

I glared up at him.

"Don't think I'm being nice just because I made your pain disappear."

I would have rolled my eyes, but I didn't have the energy.

"I just need you to be able to put my things away in your room once the elves drop it off." Voldemort left the room, letting his cold laughter fill the house. My father slowly walked over to me, picked me up, and sat down on the couch. As he held me to him and lightly rocked me back and forth, he whispered through tears,

"I'm so sorry, Neemie, but there's nothing I can do. He can't die, and I can't get rid of him."

I cried into my fathers chest, "I'm not mad at you, dad. I love you more than you know."

He stroked my hair and cried harder.

After a few minutes of crying, I sniffled, "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"There is something that you could do to make me feel better."

He looked down at me with hopeful eyes, "What? What can I do?"

I sat up and then sat down next to him on the couch. He hugged me with one arm while I said, "Mr. Parkinson…"

Angrily, my dad asked me, "What about him?"

I gulped and looked down at my lap, "He laughed right before Voldemort and I started to fight. He laughed at me."

"What?" My father screamed, "Why?"

I sobbed into his chest and rushed out, "Voldemort asked me why I wasn't wearing make-up and I said because I thought he did a pretty good job at coloring my face and then Voldemort got all angry and—."

"That's enough," my father growled. He raised his right hand so that his wand would fly out of the den and into his hand. He held me close to him while he apperated us to the Parkinson's Manor. I was holding onto my father, so I didn't fly into anything. He held me tightly and protectively to him with his left hand while waiting for Mr. Parkinson to turn around.

When Mr. Parkinson finished repairing his sink, he turned around and said, "Do you need something, Saravia?"

"Yes," my father breathed, "I need the truth from you."

Mr. Parkinson looked at my sobbing form and assumed that I was going to be punished. He looked back up at my father with the tiniest hint of a smirk. "Ask away."

My father lovingly stroked my back with his left hand while twiddling his wand in his right, "Did you laugh at my daughter this morning?"

"What?"

My dad's arm sprung from his side, he shot out a nonverbal spell from his wand, destroying what Mr. Parkinson had just fixed. "Answer me, or that'll happen to your testicles."

Mr. Parkinson gulped.

"Did you laugh at my daughter this morning? When she spoke of Voldemort's abuse."

Mr. Parkinson drew in a deep breath before answering, "Yes."

My dad didn't wait for anything else. He crucioed Mr. Parkinson; he didn't stop when he started to scream; he didn't stop when he thrashed about, and he didn't stop when he cried. My father stopped when Parkinson peed his pants. My dad spat out, "Don't you _ever_ hurt my daughter in anyway, ever again."

Parkinson panted loudly while slowly nodding his head up and down.

"You ready to go, Neemie?"

I looked at Mr. Parkinson and then up at my father. "Yea."

My dad held me tightly to him and apperated us back into the living room. When we appeared, my sister and mother flung themselves onto us. My mom and sister accidentally pushed my dad away in order to hug me, but my father walked back over and pulled us all in for a hug. After a few minutes of crying, I stopped and said, "We need to be strong." I gently pushed my way out of the group hug, looked at them and said, "There's nothing we can do to stop this, so we're going to just have to do our best to live with it."

My father silently cried, my sister lightly shook, and my mother fought back her sobs.

I gulped and said, "I love you all, and I know you all share in my pain, but don't blame yourselves." I drew in a deep breath to calm myself down, "I'm going to need a long term contraceptive spell on me. There would be nothing worse than to get pregnant during the midst of this."

They all understood and nodded in agreement.

"I sound proofed my room a long time ago, so I won't need that. However, I left all my stuff and the Maybach at the Parkinson's, could one of you guys get it?"

My mother wiped her tears and walked over to me. She lovingly hugged me and put her right hand on the back of my head. "Gaston came home from his trip two days ago, I told him to grab your stuff when I realized you got home. He'll be here within a day or two."

I started to cry and I squeezed my mom. "I love you so much, mom."

She cried and said, "I love you, too, honey. I really, really do. And I'm so proud of how strong you are."

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Once all of Voldemort's things were in my room, a house elf walked down to the living room and told me, "Lord Voldemort requests your presence."

I slowly got up from in between my parents and said, "Do you mean he demands my presence?" The house elf smiled and apperated back to the Malfoy Manor.

I took three steps before my mom said, "Neema, wait a minute."

I turned to face her just as she drew in a deep breath, "Nasier," she tightly held his left hand with her right, "I know it hurts honey, but I think you should put that year-long contraceptive spell." She gulped, "The one you used on me when—"

"Oh! Mom!" I shouted in a whiny voice, "I don't wanna hear about you and dad!"

Drea laughed, when we made eye contact she said, "You have no idea about what's going to happen to you once you're in there, but your biggest concern is mom and dad getting it on?"

I laughed too, "I love you."

She smiled widely, "I love you, too."

My father gulped, wiped a few tears off of his cheeks, and pointed his wand at my lower stomach for about two minutes. I could feel something tingle inside of me; he was probably performing the spell. He slowly put his hand back to his side, but before he could do anything, I hugged him and said, "The only thing I need you to do is be strong."

He nodded and kissed the top of my head.

I let go of him and hurriedly walked up to my room; I don't want to see Voldemort, but I've kept him waiting. When I got to my room I saw that there was a pair of heels by the door. I sighed and thought, "The bastard probably wants me to wear them." So I slipped them one while scanning my room; his suitcases and trunks littered my floor. As I looked at them, I realized that they formed a path to a set of closet doors. I see that Voldemort magically enlarged my room in order to accommodate his things, and he added his own walk-in closet. I couldn't help but to laugh when I heard that the song "Crashin" by Jack's Mannequin was playing. "Very clever," I thought aloud and then sighed, "Very clever."

I didn't hear my bedroom door shut, but I heard it lock. My whole body stiffened as Voldemort wrapped his arms around me, nuzzled his face into my neck, and pressed his desire into me. He waved his wand up and down my body; my bruises and scratches slowly disappeared. I shivered as he tenderly kissed his way up my neck and to my ear. He nibbled on my earlobe before whispering, "We should… make up." He smirked into the soft flesh just below my ear.

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I sighed and brought my covers up to my chest. I turned my face to the right to see Voldemort covered in a thin layer of sweat, wearing nothing but a proud and twisted smile. "Three times, Neema." He rolled onto his left side, propped himself up with his elbow, and gently moved my frizzed, messed up hair off and away from my face. He smirked, "**You**. _Three_ times."

I drew in a deep breath, "I'd glare at you, but you're not worth the premature wrinkles."

Voldemort laughed and flopped back onto his back.

"Not only are there no words for me to be able to express how very much I hate you, but there will never be any words for that."

Voldemort put his hand behind the pillow under his head. He turned his head to the left and looked me over; the covers covered me just past my nipples, but it only came up to his waist. However, he is lying further up than I am.

We just looked at each other for a moment before I sighed and said, "Will you please hand me your wand? Mine is downstairs, and yours is on the night stand next to you."

"For what?"

I sighed.

"Oh come on, _Sweetie—Neemie_. Humor me."

I glared at him for a few seconds, but then I raised my right hand; his wand flew into my left hand. I lazily flicked it around my room while singing at the same time and key as the ending of "Lonely For Her." The window like doors of my balcony gently opened while I sang, "_Open my window, oh…_" I stared out at my balcony, "_I'm ready to live with this._" I gulped, "_And you walk by my window, oh…_" With a longing stare towards the Malfoy Manor, I continued to sing along, "_You give me something to miss…white legs to the touch…_" I then turned my head to the right and made eye contact with Voldemort, "_Why do you hurt me so much?_"

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**A/N: As you've probably already figured, I'm absolutely in love with Jack's Mannequin. I recommend it to anyone who enjoys lyrics with a meaning, and the sound of instruments playing beautifully.**

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**A/N: Please, please, please review!**


	14. Damned If I Do Ya, Damned If I Don't

**Chapter Fourteen: Damned If Do Ya, Damned If I Don't**

**A/N: It's a short chapter, but it's an important one.**

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I took a long shower before decided to wear some baggy, around the house clothes. It's pretty hot at my house, so I wore some old shorts, a sports bra, and a red, baggy shirt over it. I didn't bother to put any make-up on, and the only thing I did with my hair was pin it up into a sloppy, but secure bun. I rolled on some deodorant and made my way to the kitchen. I searched the fridge for a few minutes and wished that we had food that was already made, not food to make food.

My body automatically stiffened when I heard him say, "There's more food in the pantry."

I sighed and closed the door to the fridge. I mumbled out, "Thanks," while I walked over to the pantry. I scanned the shelves for a few minutes before taking out a protein bar. I closed the pantry and then slowly peeled the wrapper off of the protein bar. Without making eye contact, or looking at him at all, I walked past Voldemort and to the trashcan. I threw away the wrapper and started to walk towards the door of the kitchen so I could go to the living room, but he leaned against the counter, making it impossible for me to continue. With a smirk, he said, "You will be attending the four o'clock meeting with me this afternoon."

I drew in a deep breath, took a bite of my protein bar, and said, "Okay." I tried to walk around him, but he just picked me up from my waist and placed me on the counter he was leaning against. I rolled my eyes while he stood in between my legs, put his hands down by my thighs, and started to kiss my neck. He turned my face to my left so that it'd be easier for him to kiss me, but I pretended not to be bothered and continued eating my protein bar. He pulled away from me and turned my face so that I'd be looking into his angry eyes. "You're eating while I—?"

I saw Nagini slither on the wooden floor of the kitchen and screamed. I scooted back so fast that I slammed into the wall. Voldemort looked down at Nagini before looking back up at me. "Now, now," he laughed and stroked my left cheek with his right hand, "Nagini won't hurt you."

I looked at him with wide, worried eyes, "I don't trust you."

Voldemort smirked and looked at Nagini. He hissed something, and she hissed back. It was quiet for three seconds; I looked at Voldemort and was going to ask him what was said, but then Nagini rose to my eye level. I shook uncontrollably; just as she was about to snap her jaws in front of my face, I was back into my cat form. I stood up with a slight arch, puffed up my fur, and loudly hissed at her. Voldemort hissed something at her, making her slowly lie back down on the floor and slither out of the kitchen. Voldemort smirked and rubbed his index finger under my chin, "You're a cute, brown cat."

I meowed, but he probably didn't get, "Shut up and rub behind my ears" from it. He scooped me up, walked out of the kitchen, and into the living room. He sat down on the chair he used when he first was here and placed me on his lap. He ran his left hand from the top of my head, down my back, and almost to my tail. He'd lift his hand back up to my head and then stroke back down. He did this for a few minutes before my father, Lucius, and Draco walked into the room. They were discussing how to rearrange the furniture so that it'd be more pleasing to Voldemort; they didn't realize we're here, so I meowed.

Lucius immediately looked over and then back at my father, "When did you get a cat?"

Voldemort laughed, "This morning."

I jumped off his lap and jogged over to Draco. I rubbed my body against his calves, gently wrapped and unwrapped my tail around his ankle, and purred. Voldemort did not look pleased, but Draco smiled down at me, "Hey, Neema."

Lucius looked over at Voldemort, "My Lord Voldemort, did you… jinx Neema?"

"No," Voldemort drew in a deep breath, "it turns out that she's an animagus."

Lucius looked at Draco, and Draco rushed out the abridged version of this morning. Lucius gulped and continued to talk with my father; Draco squatted down and scooped me up into his arms. Voldemort looked at Draco and said, "Sit down across from me."

Draco looked into his angry, but curious eyes, "Yes, sir." He then sat down in the armchair almost directly across from Voldemort. I climbed up the arm of the chair until I was near Draco's neck; I nuzzled my little cat face into his neck; a giggle escaped from his lips as my whiskers brushed against his sensitive neck skin. Draco blushed when my father looked over; I knew he was secretly approving. I don't know how much he knew about Draco's helpfulness, but I know that he knows Draco is making all of this so much easier for me. I leaped into Draco's lap, walked in two small circles, and sat down. Draco started to stroke me under my chin, but I moved my head until he realized that I wanted to be rubbed behind my ears. As soon as he stroked behind my ears, I purred. He smiled down at me and started to use both hands so that he could rub both of my ears. After a few minutes of this, I made eye contact with Voldemort and then nuzzled my face against Draco's package. Draco gasped and shoved his hips further back into the chair; I purred.

"That's enough, pussy cat," Voldemort smirked and rested his left index finger, middle finger, and thumb against the left side of his face after he put his elbow on the arm of the chair. "Come here, Neema."

I stretched my body across Draco's lap and meowed insubordinately.

With a much harsher tone of voice than before, Voldemort said, "Come here."

I slowly got onto my paws and stretched my body.

"Come here now or I'll have Nagini eat you."

I wasn't sure if that was a real threat or not, but I wasn't going to take the chance. I leaped off of Draco's lap, jogged over to Voldemort, and jumped into his. He rubbed me under my chin with his right index finger and smirked, "Good kitty."

I purred so he wouldn't get angry.

He smirked.

I purred for real when he started to rub behind my ears.

"I like you as a cat." He started to rub behind my other ear.

My father and Lucius walked out of the room to go get a measuring tape from my dad's den; Draco stayed and watched Voldemort pet me. "Draco,"

Draco's eyes shot up to Voldemort's, "Yes, sir?"

Voldemort smirked before saying, "It's quite a thing, having sex with an animagus." I stopped purring, so he looked down at me, "I always wondered why you're so flexible, I suppose this is my answer."

He laughed, but I leaped off of his lap and jogged into the kitchen. He followed me with curiosity, but he twisted his face into an expression of annoyance when I transformed back into my human body and grabbed my clothes from the counter. I quickly slipped my shorts on, put my bra on, and tossed my baggy shirt on. As I adjusted my sports bra a bit, Voldemort said,

"No panties? Just shorts?"

I drew in a deep breath and picked up my protein bar from where I left it on the counter. "I'm more comfortable without them."

As I took a bite from the bar, Voldemort chuckled and stood in my way of the door, "It's one in the afternoon, when do you need to start getting ready for the meeting?"

I took another bite from the bar, swallowed it, and then said, "Three thirty."

He pressed his lips together and raised his right brow, "How long do you need to look nice?"

I shrugged and looked down at my outfit, "I dunno," I took another bite, "I think I look good now—"

He started to raise his right hand to slap me.

I looked at it, gulped, and rushed out, "Two hours!"

He smirked and tenderly stroked the left side of my face, "That's a good kitty." He laughed, lightly smacked me, and then walked to the den to find my father. I glared at the door after he walked out and mumbled,

"Fuckin' asshole."

I was going to add more, but Draco walked in. He closed the door behind him, but didn't move past coming in; with his right hand tightly holding the doorknob behind him, he asked me, "Are you okay?"

I sighed and walked towards him, "Yeah."

He smiled weakly.

I gently pressed my body against his and quietly breathed in his sweet scent. Draco wrapped his left arm around me, "You can come over when ever you need to."

"Or can." I laughed, but not because I thought it was funny.

Draco took his right hand off of the doorknob; he used his index and middle fingers to gently raise my head. He looked down into my sad eyes and said, "I wish this wasn't happening to you."

I looked away from him and pressed my hands against his chest, "You didn't even like me before all of this."

Draco sighed, slightly with irritation, "People change along with the circumstances."

I sighed and nuzzled my face into his chest.

He held me close to him and slowly ran his left hand up and down my back, "Things will be better, sooner or later, things will be better."

I silently cried into his chest, "Hopefully sooner."

"Yea," he squeezed me, "hopefully sooner."

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I finished getting ready at three forty-eight. Voldemort told me to wear a red dress, so I wore my scarlet red, one shoulder dress; the dress I bought for a Gryffindor House party. I put on gold heels, my gold olive branch earrings, and did my eye make-up with browns. I drew in a deep breath before walking down stairs; Voldemort was waiting for me near the staircase. He sucked in a breath, looked me over, and said, "You look fantastic."

I looked him over and said with no emotion, "Thanks."

Voldemort smirked and wrapped his right arm around my waist. We walked to the dinning room in complete silence; I was looking at him with disgust, he was looking at me with lust. Sure, he looked handsome; he combed his hair, and he's wearing black slacks, black shoes, a black belt, and a scarlet, button down shirt. If I didn't know him, I'd call him very handsome, but I do know him, and the hate in my chest was ready to burst out and stab him in the eyes. We walked in at exactly four o'clock; his inner circle of Death Eaters, plus Draco, was already there. Bellatrix looked me over; I gulped and wondered if she knew that Voldemort made her husband, my dads best damn friend, do to me. Voldemort saw her look me over and smirked; he squeezed me to his side and looked at her. He half spoke, half hissed, "Bellatrix,"

Her eyes shot up to him, "Yes, my Lord?"

"This here is Neema," he kissed my forehead.

I cringed.

"She is my Gryffindor..." He smirked while looking me over, "She is my Gryffindor Kitten."

Bellatrix stayed silent, but Voldemort didn't mind. He had me sit down on the closest chair to his throne like one. The majority of the meeting was just making sure that all his plans were going according to plan, but after a few minutes of silence, Voldemort sighed and gently placed his wand down on the table. He looked at each Death Eater and individually told them to call his wand. Everyone tried, but no one could get his wand to fly into their hands. With a smirk, he looked at me, "Neema, why don't you try?"

I drew in a deep breath and raised my right hand; I focused on silently calling the wand to me for ten seconds before it flew into my hand.

Voldemort started to laugh, cold and low laughs. My father shot up from his chair, but quickly sat back down, only now he's sitting straight up. "No, _no_, Neema." He looked so pained.

I looked at my dad with deep concern, "What?"

Voldemort laughed loudly and leaned close to me. Once he locked gazes with me, he smirked and said, "Long story short," he brushed a curl off of my face, "you will be my Gryffindor Kitten until you wed."

I bent over, put my head in between my knees, ran my hands down my neck, and dry heaved; I didn't have enough food in my stomach to actually puke.

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My father purposely put in all his effort into keeping Voldemort busy all day; my dad and Draco decided to start rearranging the dinning room and the living room to Voldemort's liking. They made it obvious that their goal is to have everything down to the last centimeter the way Voldemort wants it, and if that were going to happen, Voldemort would have to stay and watch them the entire time. During this, my mom, my sister, and I went on a day trip to a near by beach. Well, it's actually four hours away, but my mom apperated us there, so it didn't take us long to get there. It was surprisingly warm today, especially at the beach, so Drea and I wore our almost identical bikinis. They're string bikinis, but hers is silver with green stripes, and mine is red with gold stripes.

At first, I wasn't really into the idea of wearing a bikini, but Drea told me, "Really Neemers, the only man who could ever hurt you will be far away and not actually know where we are. Don't cover yourself up on such a hot day because of a slight chance. You deserve to be happy." I didn't take much convincing; Drea always knows what to say. Besides, my mom is wearing her blue bikini with black stripes; she bought it to represent that she was a Ravenclaw when Drea and I were buying ours. I couldn't have my sister _and_ my mom show me up.

We spent the whole day there. We tanned, swam a little bit, and Drea and I built sandcastles while my mother read a stack of magazines. While we were there, Drea smirked at me and said,

"Castle competition?"

We used to get in these all the time when we were younger. I smirked at her, "It's on." We grabbed our plastic buckets and tools, ran back and forth from the ocean to our castle area. I was building mine the usual way, but then I saw that Drea was using subtle magic, so the muggles near by wouldn't notice.

"Hey!" I shouted at her, "That's not fair! You know I can't do that in public yet!"

Drea pointed to the colors on her bikini, "When have I ever ran by what's fair?"

I sighed angrily and went back to packing the sand onto my castle. A few minutes later, Drea shot up and shouted, "Done!" I carefully wiped some sweat away from my brows and looked up.

"What? That's ridiculous!" I walked over to it and did a few circles around it. She had a large base and many elaborate towers off of it. She enchanted small, sand flags to flap in the wind on top of the towers. She built a moat, too; she enchanted the seawater in it to move, and she magically built small sand boats. The boats moved with the current of the enchanted water; she laughed at me while I stared at it with my mouth agape. My sand castle was a puny, poorly constructed, but classic sand castle. I glared at her and went to kick some of her extra, wet sand on it, but it bounced off her castle and clung to my body. "GAH!"

She almost fell down laughing at me.

I tried to wipe the sand off of my body, but my hands were slightly wet with some sand on them, so I ended up putting more sand onto my body than taking off. Drea immediately stopped laughing at me, but she didn't talk to me, she just stared. "What?"

She gulped.

I looked at her with slight annoyance, "What?"

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**A/N: Please review!**


	15. Contemplate Our Chemistry

**Chapter Fifteen: Contemplate Our Chemistry**

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Two large hands quickly brushed away all the globs of sand on my stomach. I stiffened when I saw the paleness of the hands, I was about to faint until Draco said, "Calm down, it's just me."

I quickly turned and wrapped my arms around his neck, "Oh thank God it's you."

"I'm sorry," Drea squeaked, "just when he apperated it looked like a big to-do."

"It's okay," I looked over my shoulder at her, "It's totally okay."

She smiled weakly and walked away to sit down with our mom. I looked back at Draco as he squeezed me to him, "Your dad's doing a great job with keeping Voldemort busy."

I sighed and nuzzled my face into his chest, "That's good."

"Yeah," Draco pulled away from me and said, "Wanna take a walk?"

"Uh, sure." I stepped away from him, but stood close to his left side. He gently brushed his left hand against my right one, so I smiled and opened my hand up for him. He slid his hand on top of mine and tenderly slipped his fingers in between my fingers. Once we started walking where the water can splash our ankles, he gently swung our hands back and forth.

"I don't understand what the wand proved."

I sighed and gently squeezed his hand. I stared at the waves while replying, "I don't understand either."

"Hey,"

I looked up at him; he had a weak, but genuine smile, and very hurt eyes. "Whatever happens, I'm here."

There was a moment of awkward, but happy silence between us.

"Like I said," his smile widened, "I got I got I got I got your back."

I smiled up at him with happy eyes, "I'll be here for you, too."

We didn't say much more, but we walked for a while, just holding hands and enjoying the feeling of the cool water against our warm skin. Older couples smiled at us; the women pointed us out to their old, tired husbands. Some of the men didn't really care, they were too relaxed to pat attention to what their wives were talking about, but a few husbands did. You could see that those husbands were still in love with their wives as much as their first day of marriage. I couldn't help the feeling that washed over me; I silently looked up at Draco and pictured us growing old together.

A lot of women stared at Draco, but I didn't feel the slightest bit jealous. He's walking around in green trunks, allowing him to show off all his newly acquired muscle definition. Much to Draco's dismay, and my discomfort, a lot of men stared at me. On the walk back to our patch of sand, Draco let go of my hand and walked over to my left side. He held my hand again and looked down at me, "Just because you're beautiful doesn't mean they should look at you like that."

I laughed, "Perhaps the bikini does."

He laughed and let go of my hand. He wrapped his arm gently around me and looked down at me with a smile. I wrapped my left arm around his waist; I rested my hand loosely on his hip and enjoyed the feeling of leaning against his body. After a few minutes of silence, I softly said, "Can I tell you something weird?"

"Sure," he moved his hand up and down without actually traveling up and down my body. His small gesture of affection made me feel a lot better.

I stared back down at the waves, "When he…" I gulped.

"You don't have to say it."

I stepped a little bit closer to him, "I picture that it's you." I timidly looked up at him, "It makes it bearable."

Draco stopped walking.

I stopped walking and breathing.

He let go of my side and walked in front of me.

I bit my bottom lip.

He smiled, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me up so that we'd be eye-to-eye. I giggled and wrapped my arms around his neck; he put one arm around my waist, and the other just several inches higher, so I wrapped my legs around him, too. He kissed my forehead, "Good,"

I smiled and looked at him with hopeful, happy eyes.

He kissed my cheek, "If anything, I'm flattered."

I lightly chuckled. He kissed my left cheek and added, "I'm around you half naked half the time, anyway."

I sighed with a smile as he kissed my other cheek. Before I could really react to anything, he gently kissed me on the lips. When his lips left me, he lazily opened his eyes and squeezed me to him. I softly whispered, "People are staring at us."

He smiled, "Let them."

He kissed me again, only this kiss was different. It was like our first kiss in the back seat of the Maybach; it was slow and sweet and full of what felt like love. When Draco pulled away for air, he said, "It's past five, do you want to go get some dinner. Me and you?"

I kissed his forehead, "Yes."

We walked back to where my mom and sister are so that I could grab my change of clothes. He used a cleansing spell on us nonverbally so that the muggles in the distance wouldn't notice. I held my shirt and jeans against my chest, "You know, underage magic is illegal."

Draco looked at me and then howled with laughter, "I've become a Death Eater and I'm stealing the one woman the Dark Lord calls his, underage magic no longer poses any threat."

I laughed and walked with him to the bathrooms. I went into a large stall, quickly slipped out of my bikini and into my white leggings and blue shirt. My blue shirt is really quite pretty; its collar hugs my neck, because it's keeping the whole shirt up. It's sleeveless, and it has an elastic band two or three inches from the bottom, so that the shirt has a slight "poof" affect. When I walked out, Draco was waiting for me in black jeans and in a blue shirt. I slowly walked up to him, held his right hand in my left, and walked back to my mom and sister. I put my bikini in our beach bag and told them that I'll see them later. They smiled and my mom said, "Okay. Be smart," she looked Draco over and then looked back into my eyes, winked, and said, "be safe."

I laughed and Draco blushed. Draco wrapped his right arm around me, and apperated us to a street that's about a half an hour drive from the beach we just came from. Every other building seemed to be a restaurant; at first they were small, simple restaurants, like the usual pizza place or Italian restaurant, but Draco wanted us to walk to the end of the street to see all of the places, so I said okay. The slight breeze made my hair flutter to the side; Draco smiled down at me and squeezed my hand. "Do you want to go here?"

I was looking at the left side of the street; when I turned to look at what Draco was pointing at on the right side, I softly gasped. Draco smirked, "My treat."

"I…"

Still holding my hand, he started to walk up the small, but wide staircase to the building. It's a large building; it has tall, green columns like a building in ancient Greece, it has a large and wrap around patio area to dine on when the weather is nice. Draco opened the front entrance to the giant green building and walked in right behind me. We didn't wait longer than a minute for a redheaded hostess to warmly greet us and seat us outside in the sun, but at a table where we wouldn't be blinded by it. She gave us menus and told us that a waitress should be with us soon. We silently looked over the menus for three minutes before Draco put his down and said, "I'm going to have some steak. Have you decided on what you're going to have?"

I gently closed the menu and put it down on Draco's. "Yea, some ravioli."

The waitress walked up to our table before Draco could continue with the conversation, "Hello," She smiled warmly and took out her pen and notepad. "What can I get for you this evening?"

Draco politely smiled up at the cute blonde, "I'd like the steak special."

She wrote it down, "How would you like your steak?"

Draco thought for a second, "What's the word that implies the opposite of raw?"

I laughed and leaned forward, "Well done."

"Yea," He looked back up at the waitress, she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, "I want it well done."

"Okay," she wrote it down and then looked over at me, "What would you like?"

I drew in a deep breath before saying, "I want the ravioli with the mushrooms and cheese inside it."

"Okay," she smiled, wrote my order down, put her notepad and pen in the front pocket of her serving apron, and grabbed our, "What would you two like to drink this evening?"

"Uhmm… water will be just fine for me, thank you."

She looked at Draco.

"I'd like a Heineken, thanks."

"Okay, I'll be right back with your drinks."

Once she left I said, "Why didn't she ask for your ID or something?"

Draco shrugged and leaned back in his chair. He smirked and said, "'suppose I'm just that cute."

I laughed, scooted my chair closer to the table, and sat up straight. "I didn't know you drank, either."

Draco shrugged again and scooted his chair closer to the table. "Only occasionally."

Soft music started to play in the background while Draco and I talked. The music had a very relaxing effect, allowing Draco and I to gradually become more comfortable and speak much more freely. When our food came, Draco was asked if he wanted another beer, but he took water instead. We talked in between swallows; the food was too good to stop eating just to talk. Once we were down, I put my left hand on my stomach and drank some water.

"Wow," I took another sip, "That was really good. What's the name of this place?"

Draco shrugged, "Something like 'Pandora'." A minute passed before the waitress came back, collected our plates, and offered us dessert. Draco looked at me and asked, "Do you want dessert?"

"Oh gosh, I'm totally stuffed."

Draco gave me puppy dog eyes, "Not even if we split one?"

I sighed and smiled, "I guess."

Draco sat straight up again and smiled widely. "We'll have the cinnamon, apple crumb sundae thing."

I drew in a deep breath while the waitress smiled, wrote it down, and said, "You two are cute."

I blushed and Draco half smirked, half smiled. "Thank you."

She nodded and went back inside the restaurant. "Did you hear that?"

I looked back into his eyes, "Yes."

He leaned closer to me and put his open hands on the top of the table. He stared at my hands until I inched them over and into his hands. He held them tightly, but still tenderly. He looked into my shy eyes, but didn't say anything. I bit my bottom lip, Draco saw this and said, "You don't have to be nervous around me."

I smiled and just looked at his face; he's really very good looking. His features are sharp, but not pointy. His eyes are on the grey side, but they still look blue to me. Granted, a very light blue, but still, blue. "Last month we hated each other, and now I'm ready to cuddle with you every night. What should I not be nervous about?"

Draco smirked rather deviously, "I know we've changed a lot in a short amount of time, but—"

"Sorry to interrupt," the waitress said very softly. I pulled my hands away so that she could put the sundae down in the middle of the table and put down two spoons. She put the receipt face down and said, "Whenever you two are ready; no rush." She smiled and walked off.

Draco sighed and picked up a spoon, I picked up the other. We ate in silence for a few minutes, but it quickly became too much for me, so I put my spoon down on the edge of the bowl. Draco raised his right eyebrow and smirked. I opened my mouth to say something, but he quickly slid a spoonful of vanilla ice cream into my mouth. He didn't take the spoon out until I angrily ate the ice cream. He laughed and slowly slid it out, "What was that for?"

He looked back up at my face and chuckled, "It looked like you'd like another spoonful, that's all.

I rolled my eyes and stayed silent for a minute, but then he laughed at me.

"What?"

"You're face scrunches up when you're angry."

"Doesn't everyone's?"

He smiled and softly replied, "Not as cutely as yours."

My frustration melted away. I smiled at him, got up, and moved my chair over to him. He scooted over a little bit to accommodate the new seating arrangement, and I made myself comfortable in the chair. He wrapped his left arm around me while finishing off the sundae. I stayed silent so that he could eat in peace; when he was done, he paid for the meal, left her a large tip, which only seems right since she didn't ask for an ID, called us cute, and apologized for the cockblock.

We walked out of the restaurant holding hands and smiling. He held me close to him and said he was going to apperate us back home. I gulped and snuggled my body against his chest. He held me tightly to him, even when we reached our destination. I put a few inches between us so I could see where we were. We were on his balcony; it's dark out now, we spent a lot of time just talking at the restaurant. He affectionately held me to him; he had his left arm almost possessively around my waist, but his right hand ran soothingly up and down my back. I sighed happily and stood on my tiptoes; I almost could put my head on his shoulder. Draco smirked and picked me up, "Here," He wrapped his arms around me like when we were on the beach. I followed his lead by wrapping my legs around him for security and my arms around him for comfort and balance. He tilted his head and touched the tip of his nose against the tip of mine, "Better?"

I smiled, put my lips just a centimeter away from his, and whispered, "Yes."

He smirked, but didn't kiss me, so I moved my head onto his shoulder. I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck and stared out behind him. It's a full moon tonight, the stars are bright and the pond on my property reflects the night sky perfectly. There's a slight breeze, causing the tree limbs to dance every once in a while. Draco gently pressed me against the wall five feet behind me, moved his head so that'd we be face-to-face, and kissed my forehead.

"Dra—Draco, I—"

He softly shushed me and whispered out, "_If the stars said that you couldn't love me, are you telling me that you'd listen?_"

I knew he took my iPod before we left, and this just proved it, but I'm nowhere near mad. I sighed happily and whispered back, "_Star crossed lovers, we do what we want to_."

Draco smiled against my lips. He magically turned on my iPod and speaker system so that "Star Crossed" would start playing. He kissed me sweetly on the lips, then on my chin, then on the side of my neck. He slowly slid me farther up the wall so that he could kiss my left shoulder, and then the right one. He kissed his way back up to my lips by kissing the side of my neck he hasn't kissed yet. We kissed sweetly and slowly until the song ended. When the song ended, he kissed my jaw near my ear, "These leggings are a bother."

I refrained from chuckling, "So are your pants."

"On second thought," he bit his top lip in thought.

"What?"

He looked back in my eyes with slight concern, "People might see us up here, they might see us right now."

I smiled and kissed him, when I pulled away, I told him, "Let them."

He half smiled, half smirked against my jaw, pressed me into the wall and said, "Hold on tight."

I squeezed my arms tightly around him and moved my legs further up on him. He backed his lower body away from me, quickly unbuttoned his pants, and pushed them down to his thighs. I kissed him and used lowered my legs back to their original place. I then pushed his pants farther down with my feet; they fell to his feet. We both smirked against each other's lips, but I gasped when he pressed his erection against me. His smirk grew, especially when he started to wiggle his hips at the same rate as "Alive With the Glory of Love." He pressed his desire against me harder as he sang, "_And when our city, vast and shitty, falls to the Dark Lord, they'll search the buildings, collect gold fillings, wanton race._"

I giggled when I realized he replaced "the Axis" with "the Dark Lord", but my laughter was short lived. He whispered in my ear, "Can I take off your leggings?"

I didn't respond at first, I gulped and listened to the music flow, "_Should they catch us and dispatch us to those separate work camps, I'll dream about you. I will not doubt you with the passing of time… Should they kill me, your love will fill me as warm as the bullets, yeah. I'll know my purpose; this war was worth this. I won't let you down…_"

I looked him in the eyes and whispered, "Yes."

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**A/N: If you'd like the chapter to continue where this one left off, just say so in the review area. If not, I'll pick up writing after this scene.**

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A/N: Please go check out my newest story, Holiday From Real. I'd appreciate it! Thanks. :)**


	16. Tough but Sweet

**Chapter Sixteen: Tough but Sweet**

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Draco started to gently kiss my neck near my jaw line; he pressed me against the wall so that he wouldn't have to concentrate on holding me up. Since he was stepping a bit forward, he pulled his feet out of his pants and kicked them several inches away. He started to kiss my neck again while his large, strong hands ran softly down my body. He lightly tugged on my shirt to pull it a few inches higher, and then he slipped his cool fingers under the very top of my leggings. I shivered from the contrast of temperatures, causing him to stop his movements and whisper, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," I kissed the top of his head just before he went back to kissing my neck. He switched to the other side of my neck while he slowly pulled my leggings to my knees. He kissed me softly on the lips before saying, "Let go for a minute."

I looked at him, kissed him again, and put my feet down on the ground. I let go of his neck and peeled my leggings off. I flung my leggings into his room and stood on my tiptoes. He pulled me up again, only this time he put his hands under my thighs and spread my legs as open as possible. I groaned loudly as he grinded me; he smirked as my eyelids fluttered. I ran my hands under his shirt, but then started to pull it off. He didn't want to let go of me, so he mumbled a spell so that his shirt would be off of his body and near my leggings. He kissed and nipped at the exposed parts of my collarbone and lower neck. I moaned with anticipation when he started to caress and lightly squeeze my inner thighs. He nibbled his way up to my right ear, "Do you want me to keep touching you?"

I breathed out, "Oh God yes."

He smirked against my skin and used his right thumb to slowly rub me through my panties. I groaned and squeezed my arms tighter around him so that he wouldn't worry about dropping me. He looked into my eyes and smiled deviously, "Even your panties are wet."

I smirked and kissed him right next to his mouth, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

He chuckled, "Trust me, I'm certainly not upset by this. At all."

I laughed and kissed him. I groaned from pure pleasure when he slowly slid my panties to the side and ran his thumb from my entrance to my clit. His devious smile widened when I rolled my head back a few inches, and then slightly to the side. He lubricated his thumb with my own wetness and then rubbed my clit in slow, sensitive conscience circles. He gradually started to rub me faster and added a little more pressure; my breathing began to quicken, but my eyes shot open from surprise and pleasure when he tilted his hand so that not only is his thumb rubbing me in a different direction, but he slowly slid his middle finger into me.

"Ahh—ooh, Draco!"

He smirked and did his best to watch his hand and my facial expressions. I squeezed my arms around him for dear life; I moaned and wiggled my hips from the pleasure he was giving me. Taking pride in my moans, he smirked and attached his lips to my neck and jaw line. He rubbed my clit harder and fingered me faster; I scratched his upper back and lower neck with my nails, moaned, and then came.

"Neema," Draco purred into my right ear, "Neema."

I lazily opened my eyes and did my best to relax my breathing, "Yes?"

He gulped but then smirked, "Can I… Can I eat you?"

I smirked and kissed him lightly on the lips, "I suppose you could."

Draco smirked.

"But,"

His smirked dissolved.

I kissed his neck and gently nibbled on his earlobe, "I can't wait that long for you."

His sexual frustration was apparent when he whispered, "What do you mean?"

I kissed him softly on the lips, but the kiss quickly became rough and lustful. When he pulled away for air, I whispered, "You. I want you. Now."

Draco smirked and mumbled something, I didn't hear what he said, but the next thing I knew, his bare erection was rubbing against me.

I breathed out, "Ahh, _ohh_," I bit my bottom lip and said, "I don't want to ruin this shirt."

Draco laughed for thirty seconds before magically taking off my shirt, bra and panties. I shivered from the coldness of the wall; Draco hungrily looked me over for a minute or so before he noticed my goose bumps, "Are you cold?"

"Ye—Yea."

He smiled and gently kissed me, "You'll be warm soon."

I laughed until he started to slide inside me; my eyelids fluttered as I moaned. He went as slowly as possible while entering me, enjoying the feeling as much as possible. I tightly wrapped my legs around him and moaned loudly. I gasped when he gently thrusted the last few inches of him into me. Soft, but continuous moans flew out of my mouth; we may be doing this against a wall, but it wasn't fucking, or even having sex. We're against a wall, true, but he's making love to me. I kept my left arm wrapped over his shoulder, but I slowly ran my right hand up from his shoulder blades and into his thick, platinum blonde hair. I ruffled his hair as he gradually built up the speed of his thrusts, each one making me moan. He grunted out, "Harder?"

"_Oohh_," My breathing was starting to quicken again, "_Please_."

Draco smirked and started to kiss my jaw line and neck on my life side. His grunts grew longer and louder as his thrusts became faster and harder. I didn't care who could see us or hear us, I thrusted my hips towards him and ran my nails up and down his back and neck. In between moans, he'd kiss me; it was rough, maybe even raw, but it wasn't solely lust, and it definitely wasn't forced. I ran my hands threw his hair and moaned as he started to kiss and nibble on my neck. His thrusts became very aggressive, obviously he's close; I moaned out, "Dra—_Draahh—_mhm! Draco!"

"_Mhmm_,"

"Not," I panted out, "Not so hard, please."

"Sa—sorry."

"_Aahh,_" I groaned, "_God! Draco!_"

He smirked and looked into my pleasure filled eyes, "You're, _auhhh_, so," He groaned, "tight."

I moaned and kissed him; I did my best to bop down onto him as he thrusted into me. He grabbed my ass and started to slide me up and down him; I moaned extremely loud and orgasmed, but Draco didn't finish yet. He pulled out but still held me up; he breathed out huskily, "Neema,"

Through a pant, I replied, "Draco,"

"Can we try doggy?"

I drew in a deep breath; I'm sure you remember that I haven't had the preferred experience with that, but this _is_ Draco, the young man I'm pretty sure I'm in love with, and he has given me two orgasms without coming yet. I breathed out, "Sure."

Draco smiled, but not wildly. He was excited, yea, but the happiness on his face didn't come from some feeling of power. He gently laid me down on the stone of his balcony and backed up so that I could get on my hands and knees. I looked out at my pond while Draco situated himself behind me. I could practically hear him lick his lips as he put one hand on my hip and used the other to place the tip of his erection against my awaiting entrance. He groaned as he slowly slid deep inside me; I moaned and asked, "How big are you? You feel _huuuOOOuge._"

Draco laughed at my word—moan and wiped some sweat off of his forehead. He put his palms on the front of my hips and stroked the outer side of my legs with his thumbs. He gently brought my hips up and grunted, "Eight inches."

"_God_," I breathed and started to thrust back towards him, "You fa-feel _thiiick_, too." I rearranged my upper body so that I'm on my elbows and forearms instead of in a push-up position.

Draco smirked proudly and ran his right hand from my ass up to my neck and back. He stared at his dick sliding in and out of me, but his eyes flickered up to my face every once in a while. "What can I say?" He grunted, "I'm all sorts of blessed."

I laughed at his statement, but quickly started to moan again when he changed his angle a bit and found my G-spot. "_Ahh_! Oh my God!" I thrusted back towards him; Draco smirked proudly and gripped my hips in his hands. He brought me back towards him faster and harder than I was doing, and he started to quicken his pace, too. He thrusted into me as deep as possible and came, but he knew I was close, so he rode it out, groaning all the while.

After I orgasmed, Draco pulled out and almost collapsed on top of me. He breathed on my right shoulder and said barely above a whisper, "That was amazing."

"Yea," I panted, "it was."

Draco tenderly kissed my shoulder, "I love you."

A warm, tingly feeling washed over my body, "I love you, too."

Draco slowly got up from on top of me and picked me up. He walked me into his green room, stepped over our clothes, and walked me into his bluish, silver bathroom. He locked the door behind us, turned on the water to his shower, and waited a minute until it was a nice temperature. He then stepped inside and said, "The waters nice."

I smiled and bit my bottom lip while walking into his shower. He held me tightly, but lovingly to him while slowly walking us under the showerhead. He put his right hand under my chin and gently moved my head so that I'd be looking up at him. I stood on my tiptoes and he squatted a few inches, he slowly and tenderly kissed me. When we pulled away, I asked him, "Why under the showerhead?"

He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose, "Because it's not raining outside."

I nearly melted right then. I tenderly wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. It started off slow and sweet, but I lightly tickled his lips with the tip of my tongue. He instantly parted his lips wider and slid his tongue out, too. We touched the tips of our tongues together before thoroughly exploring each other's mouths. After a minute or so, he gently sucked my tongue into his mouth and then pulled away. He lazily opened his eyes and kissed my chin, then up my jaw line, and then to my ear. He sweetly nibbled on my earlobe before whispering, "All I do is want you."

I smiled and blushed happily.

He kissed the small area behind my ear and sighed, "Ever since, since all of that, ever since we talked and started to trust each other again, all I've wanted to do is be with you. All I've wanted to do is spend my time with you. I don't even know what we'd do, but I've just wanted to be with you."

I smiled and gently brought his face to mine, "I want to be with you all the time, too."

He smiled widely while his eye gazed at me with love.

I kissed the tip of his nose, "Lets wash and go to bed. I've been craving your cuddle."

Draco laughed, "Craving my cuddle?"

I laughed, too, "Yes." He chuckled and I giggled while stepping away from him. I picked up his Old Spice body wash, squirted some in my hand, rubbed my hands together, and then rubbed them on Draco.

Draco smirked down at me.

I gently bit my bottom lip before saying, "Just returning the favor."

Draco ran his hands through my soaked hair, "You didn't ask me for a favor, you gave me a gift."

I melted.

Draco picked up his vanilla scented body wash, looked at me and said, "Don't judge me."

I laughed, "I wasn't planning to judge you."

"Good," he chuckled and squirted some into the palm of his left hand. He then rubbed his hands together and then rubbed his hands on me. While I started to rub the bubbly Old Spice body wash on his lower stomach, he rubbed the vanilla scented body wash on my breasts. He then smirked and rubbed it underneath my breasts as if he were actually trying to clean me like I would clean myself. I giggled from the feeling and looked up at him, "You feelin' ballsy tonight?"

"No," he smirked crookedly, "I'm feelin' _boobsy_."

I immediately howled with laughter.

When we were done washing and kissing, Draco magically dried off, but watched as I dried off the old fashion way. He lent me his smallest shirt and a pair of his boxers. He wanted me to go to bed in my thong, but I said it'd defeat the point of the shower I just took. Draco frowned, but didn't say anything. We got into his bed and met at the middle; he put his left arm under the pillow, giving us both extra support, and wrapped his right arm around my waist. I nuzzled my face gently into the crook of his neck, breathed in his great, fresh, scent, and put my right arm under the pillow. I slid it next to his arm; he gently held onto my elbow, and I placed my left arm on top of his right arm and put my hand on his shoulder. We quickly fell asleep to the faint sound of "Wonderwall" in the background.

When I woke up the next morning it was because the beginning of "Halo" was a little too loud for my liking. Not that it was actually loud or anything, but it woke me. I blinked a few times before softly yawning and looking up at Draco. The light that crept in through his large, door like windows to his balcony lit his hair perfectly. I refrained from laughing so that I wouldn't wake him; if he were awake I would giggle since "Halo" is playing. I've never seen anyone look so at peace; his face is relaxed, but it still looks happy. His lips are slightly parted, and his breathing is soft and slow, but it's still steady.

Draco woke up about five minutes later; he stretched his body and squeezed me without opening his eyes. He opened his eyes just enough to see me happily looking up at him; he kissed my forehead, but didn't pull away. Not that I'm complaining, the feeling of his lingering lips brought me great happiness. "Did I ever ask you out, or is our relationship just understood?"

I yawned softly before answering, "You never asked me out, and I'm too afraid to just assume you my boyfriend."

Draco looked down at me with slightly hurt eyes, "I don't want you to ever be afraid of me. Nothing about me; I don't care what happens, never be afraid of me."

I smiled and planted a light kiss on his lips.

He gently squeezed my elbow under the pillow, "Be my girlfriend?"

I cuddled into his chest, "Yes."

Draco smiled and wrapped both of his arms around me. He gently rolled us over so that he's on his back, and I'm on top of him. We kissed for a few minutes before I felt his erection against my inner thigh. I smirked down at him and slowly rubbed myself against it. I bit my bottom lip and rolled my eyes back while he sighed from pleasure. It didn't take me long to get wet; I put my hands on his chest and gently pushed up away from him. I wiggled my hips until the head of his dick slipped inside me. I softly groaned and started to ride him. He looked up at me, dazed, happy, and pleasured; he put his left hand on my waist and his right hand on my left hip. It was a rather short ride, but it was still fun. I leaned over, kissed him on the lips, and then took a shower. When I got out, Draco had his hands behind his head and was staring at the open door of his shower. I dried off and then put on my leggings, bra, and shirt. I slid on my blue flats and wiggled my feet in them for a few seconds so I know that they're on all right.

I picked up my thong and smiled at him, "You should come over later."

He half smiled, half smirked, "I'll need a valid excuse to get past Voldemort."

I sighed, "Damn that turd."

Draco bursted with laughter.

"What?"

"Of _all_ the words you could use to describe him, you use turd?"

"Yes," I silently chuckled, "because he is a turd."

Draco laughed and said, "Should I drop off your iPod or something?"

I smirked and tossed my thong next to him, "Or you can return those." I shrugged, "The iPod would probably give you less trouble."

Draco laughed and started to play with it, "And probably put me in a lot less mortal danger."

I laughed, "I hope so."

He raised his right brow, "You hope so?"

"Yeah," I chuckled, "how much would my family have to not care about me that an electronic is more nerve wracking than a handsome young man having my panties?"

Draco smirked and looked at my thong, "Did you that, panty? I've been called a handsome young man."

I laughed, "I have to go, but I'll see you later."

"Okay," he smiled and watched me walk out of his room. I walked down a small flight of stairs to the first floor; I walked around for a few minutes before I spotted Lucius. "Mr. Malfoy!" I jogged up to him.

He eyed me suspiciously, "Why are you here so early?"

"Heh," I grinned crookedly, "Well…"

"Oh God." He put his right hand up to signal me to stop while leaning on his… what is that? I know it's a cane, but he doesn't have any difficulty waking, or even running without it! So I suppose it's his pimp cane. "Don't tell me, I don't want to know."

"Well, uhm…" I nervously scratched the back of my neck with my right hand, "Are you apperating to my home any time soon?"

"As a matter of fact," he sighed, but not from annoyance, "I was about to, but then you came out of no where."

I smiled politely, "Will you please apperate me with you?"

He shrugged, "Sure." He put his right arm out in a ninety-degree angle, just as I hooked my arm around his, Draco jogged down the stairs with my thong in his right hand. He was humming to himself with a large smile glued to his face and lightly bobbed his head from left to right. "Draco," Lucius looked curiously at him.

Draco smiled widely and waved his damn _**right**_ hand at us. Draco smirked crookedly with a very accomplished and satisfied look on his face while his father registered what he had in his hand. Lucius looked down to see a very embarrassed, slightly horrified me. Lucius rushed out, "Alright, lets go." and immediately apperated us to my home.

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	17. I Want Candy

**Chapter Seventeen: I Want Candy**

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A/N: Thanks to all of you who have been reviewing! Every time I get a review, I become happier; the happier I am, the more I write. *nudge nudge* hahaha. If you have the time, please go check out Holiday From Real. Thanks. :)

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When I got home, I ran up the stairs and into my walk in closet. I tossed my clothes into my laundry basket and looked around at my clean clothes. I heard the squeak of the second to last step, the one towards the top, and mumbled a spell so that my hickeys would disappear. I quickly put on a black thong – all of my panties are now thongs, except for a few granny panties that I told Voldemort I need for my period, a few boy shorts, and several other styles of rather sexy undies. The doors to my closet slowly opened; I didn't need to look to know that Voldemort was leisurely making his way towards me. I stared at my summer dresses while he walked up behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders and softly spoke,

"Where were you last night?"

"With a friend."

Voldemort gripped my shoulders almost painfully tight, "Which friend?"

"Emma,"

"Where does she live?"

"London, next door to my old home. She's my same age and comes from an upper middle class, pureblood family. She's in Hufflepuff; she's taller than me and an artist."

Voldemort let out a low laugh, "I see you've memorized my questions."

"Yes," I quickly rolled my eyes, "I need to get dressed, so please let go of me."

Voldemort squatted down a bit and kissed my neck.

I shivered and whispered, "_Please_, no."

Voldemort nipped near a weak spot and whispered, "Give me one good reason not to take you right now."

"Because," I sighed and thought off the top of my head, "I'm still sore from two nights ago."

Voldemort smirked against my flesh, "Give me another good reason."

I smirked, "Because I'm desensitizing."

Voldemort stopped and actually thought about this one, "That's… That is actually a good reason, Neema."

I inwardly smiled proudly; he let go of my shoulders and stood to my right. He started to scan my dresses; he didn't stop looking at them for a few minutes. He looked down at me and smirked, "How do you feel about Greek Blue?"

I looked up at this handsome man who's really the Devil, "It's my favorite color."

His smirk widened, "The nationalism that Nasier has put into you is rather cute."

I put an obviously forced smile on my face, "I _love _that you find me cute."

Voldemort laughed and pulled a short dress down. It's Greek Blue, and it has a similar style to the shirt that I was just wearing a few minutes ago. The collar of the shirt hugs my neck in order to keep the dress up, it's also sleeveless. However, there's not an elastic band giving my dress a "poof" affect; it's somewhat tight, but still flows down my body, and it ends just above my knees. Voldemort carefully took my dress off of its hanger and handed it to me. He looked at me and saw that I'm wearing an appropriate bra for this dress, and then said, "Wear this."

I sighed and slowly put the dress on, careful not to trap any of my hair in the collar.

"Put your hair up, I like that sloppy bun you wear."

I quickly raised and lowered my eyebrows while pressing my lips tightly together.

As I started to walk out, Voldemort said, "And wear those flats," he pointed to the ones that I came in wearing, "It matches."

"Okay," I slipped them on and then went into my bathroom. I quickly put my curly hair up in a messy bun and then walked out.

"What?" Voldemort was sitting on my bed and looked confused.

"What?"

"No make-up?"

I sighed and leaned against the door frame of my bathroom, "I'd really rather not, today."

"Would you?" Voldemort laughed.

I slowly made my body scream, "I'M WEAK!" and slightly pouted, "Please, my Lord? I feel like you're forgetting my real face."

Voldemort sighed with a smile and walked over to me. He put his right hand on my left cheek and gently stroked it, "I could _never_ forget this beautiful face."

I nervously bit my bottom lip and looked up at him with slightly hurt eyes, "Why do you always have me wear make-up then?"

Voldemort bent at the knees so that he could easily look into my eyes, "I just like how you put so much time into it. It shows that you enjoy looking good, and I like that."

I stared down at our feet.

Voldemort planted a soft kiss on my lips and then pulled a centimeter away. He whispered, "You don't have to wear it today, we're not going anywhere anyway."

I smiled, "Thank you, my Lord."

"You're welcome," he stood back up, "now cut out this cute and weak act out."

I laughed and walked passed him, "Yes, sir."

Voldemort walked close behind me, "Are you curious about what I have planned today?"

I shrugged and started to walk down the stairs, "To tell you the truth,"

Voldemort stopped following me and started walking to my left.

I looked up at him; "I sort of just go with it at this point."

Voldemort's lips curled into a devious smile, "Good, you finally figured out you can't stop anything."

I sighed and started to walk faster, but he easily matched my speed. I walked into the kitchen at the same time as the door to the garage opened. Gaston tiredly strode in; we made eye contact and smiled, we were close before he moved out. "Gaston!" I shouted happily and ran over to him. He put all the things in his arms down and to the side; he opened his arms and waited for me to come flying into them. He hugged me tightly and said,

"Neema! I've missed you!"

"I've missed you, too."

Voldemort looked at us curiously; Gaston is not a Death Eater, the last time he saw Gaston was when he was two, maybe three years old. Gaston was tall even as infant, he had black hair back then and almost light skin. Now, our Armenian blood showed; he has the same light brown skin tone that I have and he has dark brown hair. Our Greek and Italian blood is also apparent; our facial structure was obviously from that part of the world. The little bit of Egyptian in us shows in our medium sized, almost large, almond eyes. Besides height and sex, Gaston and I are pretty much twins; except, I have a straight nose, and he has a medium sized, Roman nose.

Voldemort tilted his head a few degrees to the right and slid his hands into the front pockets of his tan slacks; he looked at Gaston with a little more curiosity. Gaston is wearing his favorite blue T-shirt and a comfortable pair of black jeans. Gaston, like our father, is very tall and very muscular; he's six foot five, maybe six, and is dedicated to his fitness. In other words, you'd have no chance in winning a physical fight with him. He's not body builder status, he doesn't have neck muscles so large he can't wear a shirt, or biceps as big as my head, he's normal, but he's very fit.

Like I already said, Gaston is not a Death Eater. Gaston has never liked the idea of Voldemort's work, especially since it cut out time from the time our father could spend with him, and with us as a family. Everything about Voldemort and his ideas make Gaston sick to his stomach, and now that he knows what Voldemort is doing to me, he hates him even more. Gaston is no fool, but he's not afraid of Voldemort, either. He knows that it'd be useless to try to kill him; the son of a bitch has numerous horcruxes around, he'd just come back, _again_, and get his brutal revenge. However, Gaston is going to do his best to make getting to me difficult. He can't stop it, and he can't do anything to Voldemort, but our father is doing his best to keep Voldemort busy with Death Eater business, our mother is doing her best to keep Voldemort busy with things about the house and our life style, and Drea is spending as much time with me out of the house as she can. Now that Gaston has taken family time off from his job and is staying with us for a while, he's going to do his best to keep me busy, and away from Voldemort.

A quiet, but powerful voice hissed from behind us, "You must be Gaston."

Gaston let go of me and walked a few feet closer to Voldemort, putting himself in front of me. "Yes, you must be the," Gaston smirked crookedly, "the physically improved Voldemort."

Voldemort smirked and gently shrugged his shoulders, "New and improved."

Gaston fought back a chuckle, "How can something be improved if it's new?"

Voldemort's smirk slowly disappeared from his face, "I was never fond of Ravenclaws."

Gaston took out his wand, pointed it at the things he brought back from the Parkinson's, and magically put them away. He then pointed to his things and magically put them away in his new room. Gaston looked at me and asked, "Do you want a piggy back ride?"

I laughed and said, "I don't kn—"

"Oh come on," he gently pushed my left shoulder back, "you used to love them when you were younger."

I laughed again and stretched my arms up, "And I still do."

Gaston laughed and squatted long enough for me to get on his back. I gently but securely wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist; he held my calves to make sure that I wouldn't fall, and then stood back up. Gaston made eye contact with Voldemort and said, "That's too bad, Ravenclaws are usually quite useful."

Voldemort's brows rose slightly while he pressed his lips tightly together. He quietly watched Gaston walk us out of the kitchen, but didn't follow us. "Go up that staircase." I told Gaston while pointing to the one down the hall.

"Okay," He started to walk faster; once we reached the stairs, he walked up them two at a time. I continued to give him directions until we reached his room; it's on the same floor as Drea's and mine. Drea's room is the door farthest down the hall and on the left, mine is the door in the middle of the right hall, and Gaston's room is the door on the left, closest to the staircase. Across from his room is another bedroom, but Drea and I, with some help from our mom, converted it into a common room like area; there are days where we like to pretend the living room doesn't exist.

Gaston opened the door to his room; he didn't gasp, but he was surprised by its appearance and size. His room is the same size as Drea's mine, very large. The carpet is black and the walls are a lighter version of Ravenclaw Blue. He has a balcony, too, and a walk-in closest. His bed is a king sized bed with an elegantly curved headboard. The sheets are dark blue, the bottom pillows are black, and the top ones are blue. "Wow,"

"Yeah," I softly laughed, "mom had a field day with designing the rooms in this place."

Gaston slowly lowered me onto the floor, "Well, she did a great job."

I stood to his right, "Yeah, she really has a knack for interior designing."

Gaston continued to look at his room and all of the furniture. "Did she ever start her designing business?"

"Yeah," I looked up at him, "She actually started after she finished with this place. She's really into it; when she's not with us she's working on a few jobs."

Gaston crossed his arms comfortably across his chest, "That's great. Is that where she's at now, at a job?"

"Yeah, I think so."

The door to his room slowly opened all the way; we turned around to see Drea. "Gaston!" She excitedly ran over to him and hugged him. He laughed and hugged her back, "Gaston! It's been _so_ long since I've seen you last."

"Yeah," Gaston smiled widely and pulled away, "I'm going to be here for a little over a month."

Drea smiled wider, "So, until Hogwarts starts up again?"

"Yeah," Gaston laughed, "I'm pretty sure I'm going to drop you guys off along with mom and dad." We talked for half an hour before Gaston said, "I'm hungry, lets go scope out the kitchen."

Drea and I were hesitant, but we felt pretty safe with Gaston here. So we followed him down the stairs and to the kitchen. We were there for a few minutes before Voldemort walked in. We didn't pay attention to him though, especially since he just silently watched us. I held the fridge door open while Drea and Gaston thoroughly searched the fridge. Gaston sighed, "Why don't our parents _ever_ buy food, not just food to make food?"

I laughed, "I was actually thinking that same thing the other day."

Drea laughed, but stopped when she heard a loud pop noise; it was Lucius and Draco. Lucius approached Voldemort while Draco waved my iPod towards me. Voldemort eyed him and got up, forcing Lucius to stop talking to him. Voldemort grabbed my iPod out of Draco's hand and said, "Why do you have this?"

Draco looked at him, "I took it before we left the Parkinson's."

"I assume you're returning it then?"

"Yes, sir."

Gaston eyed Draco; neither of them have seen each other in years. Voldemort accidentally squeezed the side of my iPod where the volume buttons are, causing my iPod to go from being silent, to rather loud. Draco gently bobbed his head from left to right while Voldemort eyed my iPod. He looked back up at Draco and said, "Why would you listen to this horrible song?"

Draco shrugged and said, "I couldn't help myself," he started to sing along, "Neema on the beach, there's nothing better."

Voldemort looked shocked while I blushed.

"But I like Neema when she's wrapped in a sweater."

Voldemort looked very angry, "Want all you want, Neema is mine."

Draco couldn't refrain from smirking; he wiggled his right ring finger for Voldemort to see, and then wiggled his left ring finger so I could see, "Someday soon I'll make her mine, then I'll have Neema all the time.

Gaston whispered to Drea and I, "Is he gay?"

"No," I whispered back.

"Then why was he listening to Aaron Carter?"

I couldn't help my laughter.

Voldemort looked at me and then at Draco; he was furious.


	18. I Can Feel It

**Chapter Eighteen: I Can Feel It**

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Voldemort's jaws clenched together, but after thirty seconds of being angry, he smirked in a very pleased fashion. "You're going to make her yours, ehy?"

Draco gulped, but he didn't break eye contact with Voldemort, "One day."

Voldemort laughed and then looked at me, "I hope you're not putting all your faith into this," Voldemort lazily pointed up and down at Draco, "into a _one day_."

I gulped and locked gazes with Voldemort. I drew in a deep breath and walked up to him, "You're putting your faith into a one day, what makes you so special that I can't do a similar thing?"

Voldemort was instantly angry; he clenched his fists until his knuckles were as white as paper, "I," he spat, "am _not_ putting my faith into a _one_ _day_." The veins in his neck started to show, "I am the Dark Lord," he glared at me, "I have building accomplishments, not faith." He drew in a very angry breath, "_You_ are not special; the only part of you that is special is the sex that I give you."

He unclenched his right fist and was about to slap me across the face, but Gaston ran over and blocked his hand. He looked Voldemort in the eyes and said, "You, sir, are a real man, and real men don't hit women."

Oh how I love Gaston.

Voldemort slowly put his hands back into his front pockets. He glared at us and hissed, "Get out."

Gaston and I practically sprinted to the garage with Drea and Draco close behind. Gaston looked at the board with all the car keys and hurriedly read the labels aloud, "Lamborghini Hamman… 1962 Jaguar Mark Two… Mercedes-Benz Gull Wing—GAH! Fuck it! I'm already accustomed to the Maybach!" We ran to the Maybach; Gaston got in on the drivers side, Drea took the front passenger seat, and Draco and I jumped into the back seat. Gaston opened the garage door via button in the car and then peeled out. He was going so fast that I was surprised that we didn't spin out of control. He closed the garage door and then did a circle around the house, "Who has a wand?"

Draco quickly took his out, "Here."

Gaston drove to where he could see his window and put the car in park, but didn't turn it off. He called his wand to him, then he called Drea's. I didn't want to have to wait for hers too, so I rolled down my window, stuck my right hand out, and concentrated on my wand; I had it within the minute. Before anyone could say anything about my wandless magic, I shouted, "Lets get the fuck out of here!"

Gaston took the car out of park and drove through the neighborhood and to the freeway at fifty miles per hour; once we were on the freeway he drove at eighty miles per hour. I undid my seatbelt and cuddled into Draco; he took his seat belt off, too, and held me to him. Gaston looked at us in the rearview mirror, smiled, and then focused back on the road. "I don't know where to go," he looked at Drea, "any suggestions?"

Drea thought aloud, "He might eventually have someone look for us, so we should go somewhere he wouldn't bother looking for us."

Draco and I said in unison, "Agreed."

Drea smiled and turned so that she could look at us, "I think that we should go to Diagon Alley."

"What?" I looked at her with large, confused eyes.

"It's the easiest place to be seen."

I leaned closer to her, "Isn't that why we _shouldn't_ go?"

Drea smirked, "No, that's why we _should_ go. Someone like Voldemort isn't going to bother checking the obvious. He'll figure that if you were somewhere so open you'd already be caught."

I stayed silent for a moment so I could think it over, "That's… That's a good point."

Drea smirked proudly and turned back to her original, comfortable position. We drove there in almost pure silence; it was too awkward to talk, we were still pretty shaken up. Gaston not only saved me from a beating, but he made it so that Voldemort couldn't say anything back. What was he going to say, "I'm not a real man!" and then slap me anyway?

After an hour of quiet driving, I rested my head on Draco's shoulder and gradually fell asleep. He gently shook his right hand against my back, when I woke up, he kissed my forehead and said, "We're parked in front of The Leaky Cauldron."

I half yawned, half squeaked.

Draco smiled down at me with caring eyes, "You're so cute."

I slowly brought my shoulders up, pressed my lips together tightly, and smiled widely. He laughed and said, "You ready to get out?"

"Yeah," I sighed. Draco got out first, so I just got out from his side. He closed the door behind me and then gently wrapped his left arm around me. I walked closer to him and breathed in his scent. We strolled around the crowded streets of Diagon Alley for a while, but then decided to go to a small bakery and café. Draco bought himself a medium sized, flavored coffee, and he bought me a lemon flavored danish with some cream cheese icing on top. We sat down at a shady table on their small patio; as soon as I sat down, I took a bit of my danish. I rolled my eyes back while slowly chewing the amount in my mouth, "_Mhhhmm_," I groaned.

Draco chuckled at me in between two sips.

I playfully pouted angrily at him, "What?"

He put his coffee down on the table, but he didn't take his right hand off of it, "You took a bite of a Danish, you're not having an orgasm."

I shook my head from the left to the right, "You take a bite of this," I put the Danish an inch away from his mouth, "you'll have a mouth-gasm too."

Draco laughed, rolled his eyes, and then took a small bite. He chewed it slowly before saying, "Wow. That is good."

I laughed, "Isn't it cause for a mini orgasm?"

Draco laughed again, "Maybe for _you_, but I take a lot more than that."

I took another bite of the danish, "Then call me lucky."

Draco silently chuckled, "What's the point of an orgasm if you can achieve it doing anything?"

I smiled crookedly at him, "What's the point of an orgasm if it takes a lot of work to achieve it?"

Draco laughed and leaned back in his chair; he took another sip of coffee before replying, "It's called a reward, Neemie."

I laughed and leaned forward.

Draco's happy eyes stared at my lips for a few seconds, "Do you think our kids will end up having normal smiles since we both smiled crookedly?"

I gave him a confused look, "Our kids?"

Draco smiled crookedly; his smile goes to the left, mine goes to the right. "We're two very attractive people, you know. We'd be wronging the world if we didn't have kids."

I laughed and looked down at the table, "I guess there's logic in that."

Draco and I were quiet for a while; the only sounds we made were sipping and chewing. He softly sighed, "You're beautiful."

I looked up at him and blushed, "Thanks." I quickly looked him over, "You're handsome."

He smiled and leaned forward. He put his coffee down and held my free hand, my left one, in-between both of his. He gently squeezed them while saying, "I feel like I've loved you my whole life."

I slowly smiled and looked into his eyes; they're grey, they're blue, they're happy, and they're honest.

"I've known you my whole life, and we didn't get along for the last six years, but…"

I smiled to give him the extra confidence boost he needed.

"I hate what he's doing to you, but I love that it has brought us together. All I do is think about you."

I wiggled my hand out of his; he immediately looked scared, but he smiled as I moved my chair next to his. He magically removed the touching handles and wrapped his left arm around me. We sat in silence; I took my time finishing my danish, and he took his time drinking his coffee. I finished before him, so I gently snuggled into his side and patiently waited for him to finish. I stayed quiet, every once in a while I'd look up at him and admire his golden, almost white hair, his perfectly straight nose, and the long eye lashes that frame his grey/blue eyes. He took the top off of his drink and did his best to eat the whipping cream that he just realized exists for his drink. A little bit of whipping cream stuck to the left edge of his bottom lip, so I stretched up and kissed it off.

Draco smiled and looked down at me while I made myself comfortable against his side. He gently curled the ends of my hair around his index finger and kissed the top of my head. I let out a sigh approval and put my right hand on his left knee. He smirked and said, "I accept your offer."

"What?" I looked up at him, "What offer?"

Draco chuckled and looked down at my hand, "_The_ offer."

I rolled my eyes and sighed, "This is a sign of love, not of _that_."

Draco smirked, "And how am I supposed to the difference between your sign of love, and your sign of _that_?"

I smirked up at him and squeezed his knee twice, "This is love." I squeezed it once more for good measure. "And this…" winked up at him and gently squeezed his package. He gasped and shot his hips up, "is _that_."

I quickly put my hand back on his knee and giggled. He looked down at me with a slight smirk, "I don't think I know the difference yet, can we do that again?"

I laughed, "Maybe later."

"Alright," He smirked deviously, "we'll try again later today."

I laughed at him and leaned away a few inches, "_Today_? Maybe if you're lucky."

Draco kissed the top of my head, my forehead, the tip of my nose, and then softly on my lips. He pulled away after ten seconds, but he didn't go far. We lazily opened our eyes and just looked at each other for a minute. He's wonderful; he's handsome, he's smart, he's driven, and he's wonderful. He's also very prejudiced, he can be very cruel, and he's awful to anyone without pureblood, but he's still wonderful. He's been here for me, he's cared for me, he's protected me as much as he knew how, and he loves me. I know his faults, believe me, I know them, but I don't mind them. I love him regardless of all his wrong doings, all the things he's going to have to do; he's wonderful, and we're in love.

Draco gently pressed his lips against mine; I could feel him smile while we slowly kissed. I don't know how long we kissed, but I know I enjoyed every second of it. I would have enjoyed more seconds, but Drea and Gaston nosily sat down across from u s. We immediately pulled away, looked at them, and blushed. The four us awkwardly sat there for a few minutes before Draco stood up and said, "I'll be back in a bit, there's something that I need to go do."

Gaston and Drea replied in unison, "Okay."

I looked up at him, "Where are you going?"

Draco frowned crookedly, "You'll know soon enough."

I sighed from frustration, "Okay. Fine. We'll stay here until you get back."

"Okay," he smiled and then apperated.

Drea took a bite of her lemon danish with cream cheese icing on it. She practically moaned out, "Oh my God!

I laughed, "I had one of those earlier."

Gaston took a sip of his tea, "What's the big deal?"

"It's a gift from God!"

Gaston rolled his eyes while I agreed.

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**Draco's P.O.V.**

I don't know what I'm thinking, this is completely irrational and could end terribly. I'm supposed to marry a pureblood, though, and within a years time I'll legally be an adult wizard. My father expects me to marry young like he did, and I can't think of anyone to spend the next hundred years of my life with besides Neema. This magical blood is going to let me live for another hundred and so years; Neema's life is going to be long, too, unless Voldemort kills her before her time. Which is why I'm here, at a ring shop a block away from the café. I saw it while we were walking around, and I haven't been able to shake the idea out of my mind.

Voldemort is going to keep doing those horrible, horrible things to her and torment her family until she gets married. Voldemort has already ordered me to sneak Death Eaters into Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore; I can marry Neema after that since I'm probably not going back to Hogwarts after that. I don't really know, but I think it's safe to assume that if I d get to have a seventh year, I'll have to go to Durmstrang.

My thoughts were interrupted when the old man who owns this jewelry store approached me. I was staring down at a glass case of rings; he stood at the opposite side of it, "Ahh," he sighed, "Young love?"

I half smiled, half smirked before looking up at him; I shrugged nervously.

He smiled as if he knew my predicament, "Star crossed lovers?"

I laughed, "To say the least."

He chuckled, "May I help you look at rings?"

"I'd… I'd appreciate that, sir. To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure what to get her."

"Well," he stood up a bit straighter, "It's easier to pick out a ring when I know some facts. What is she like?"

"Heh…" I smiled crookedly, "She's… She's the reason why smiles exist at all."

A genuine smile found its way onto his face, "What does she look like?"

I drew in a deep breath before saying, "She's short, around five foot four… She's, she's beautiful." I sighed, "She has brown hair with faint streaks of gold…brown eyes…gorgeous features, really," I looked back into his eyes, "My best description could never do her justice."

The man smiled, "What's her skin color?"

"That matters for a ring?"

His eyes widened with shock and he laughed, "Of course my dear boy! Of course!"

"Uhm…" I thought for a few seconds, "light brown, a mixture of Armenian and Egyptian skin."

"Ahh," he sighed, "She must be beautiful then."

I smiled widely, "She's mostly Greek and Italian, but she has Armenian and Egyptian blood."

He smiled back at me, "Then she's definitely lovely."

I smiled.

"Follow me," he said while walking to a near by case, "I have several rings with a creamy, beautiful brown pearl in the center. It'd look great against light brown skin." I looked at them through the glass and then asked him,

"May I hold them so that I can see them better?"

"Of course," he took out his wand and magically, but nonverbally opened the lock on his side of the glass case. One of the rings was rather plain; it was just a brown pearl on a silver band. The next was slightly more elaborate, it was the same basic thing, but it had a few diamonds in the band. There was one with four brown pearls on a ring with three, slightly spaced out silver bands, and it had diamonds in between the pearls. It was much too elaborate, and actually not the attractive for me to consider putting on Neema's elegant ring finger. I was just about ready to start looking else where, or at least at a different case, but then I saw the perfect ring. A large, chocolate brown pearl was set perfectly in the middle of a gorgeous golden band. There are two bands, actually, spaced apart by about half a centimeter, and it has diamonds on both of the bands. The diamonds closest to the pearl are the largest; the farther from the pearl, the smallest diamond, but the diamonds end at the sides of the bands. I carefully picked it up and held it to the light, "This is the one."

The old man smiled, "Would you like to see a few more styles of rings before actually buying?"

"No, no," I rushed out, "_this _is the one. It's beautiful and unique, just like my Neema."

The old man smiled genuinely again.

I could continue looking at rings, I probably should, but honestly, what was I going to find? Beautiful, fancy diamond rings, colored stones surrounded by diamonds, or cheesy heart shaped stones? Diamond rings are used too often, they've lost their flare. I don't want to put a pretty ring with a colored stone on her hand, and I won't stand to put a heart shaped stone on her hand; _this_ is the perfect ring. It's going to look great against his skin, plus, I've only seen a pearl ring once before in my life. I can't have a unique girl walking around with a common ring style.

"Please follow me back to the counter."

I did so; to his surprise, but still to his delight, I paid the full amount right there. He carefully put the ring in a small, black box and put an enchantment on it so that not only can the box not fall out of any pockets or bags, but only I can take it out. Now, I don't have to worry about someone pick-pocketing me, or it falling out. I walked out of the shop and apperated back to the café table. Neema was crying from laughing so hard, Drea couldn't breath, and Gaston looked angry, he was trying not to laugh, but he had to laugh. I sat back down next to Neema and looked at Gaston since he's the calmest, "What's so funny?"

They all took a minute to regain their breath. Neema wiped her tears off of her face before turning a little bit to look at me, "Drea was being rude to Gaston, so he asked her why she doesn't have a boyfriend," Neema fought back a laugh, "And Drea told him, 'Because I make my own money, I can protect myself, I kill my own spiders, and I give my own orgasms.'" They all started to howl with laughter again; I couldn't help but to laugh, too.

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**A/N: Thank you to all the wonderful people who are reviewing! I appreciate it more than I can express. Please continue reviewing, and I'll continue writing. :)**

**Also, if you like dark stories with undertones of happy, which is what this story kind of is, go check out Holiday From Real; I'm going to make it rather dark, but not terrible or extremely evil, or anything like that. I have big plans for it, and I'd love to share those plans with you.**

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**A/N: luna-lovegood-77: Thank you for the review on my story, Rebirthing. It has returned to its day dream stages, but I hope to soon start writing for it again. However, I don't really know if soon is this month or September because I'd quickly grow sick of the new school year and need a release. Either way, I'm glad you like the story. C:**


	19. Snake Devil

**Chapter Nineteen: Snake Devil**

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We didn't get back until around two in the morning; we dropped Draco off in front of his house, watched him apperate away, and then parked the Maybach back in the garage. We quietly walked through the house, made sure to skip the squeaky step, and silently crept into our rooms. Gaston and Drea didn't have to worry about whatever sounds they made after they got inside their rooms because they don't share a room with anyone, and their rooms are sound proof. I, on the other hand, must be just as quiet as if I'm not here since I have to share a room with my sweet, sweet lover, Voldemort.

Shudder.

Gag.

Puke.

I hate this asshole and I can't wait until MacGyver's love child, Harry Potter, figures out how to kill him for good. I hope I'm there when he's going to die; I want to stab him in the groin with a butcher knife. Repeatedly. After I do that, Harry can kill him. Hopefully I can distract Harry for half an hour so that this piece of shit can wither around in pain for a while. I hope the killing curse hurts, I hope the pain stings the remainder of his soul, even when he's dead.

I held my breath so that I wouldn't make any additional noise and slowly walked to my bathroom. Once I shut the door, I turned on the light and drew in a deep breath. My bathroom is also sound proof, so I'm not worried about making noise in here. I considered just sleeping in my bathtub while washing my face, but if he found me in here he'd probably be more upset than finding me in my own bed. Because he _totally_ has the right to be angry with me for sleeping in my own bed, or just coming back to my own house. Frickin' doucher.

I angrily, but carefully took off my dress and bra and set it on the counter near the sink; I'll put my clothes in my laundry basket later. I turned off the bathroom light, drew in a deep breath, and walked out of my room. Voldemort had the lamp on the nightstand next to him on; he was looking over at me with a smirk. He sighed and looked me over; I immediately wrapped my arms across my chest. I was going to creep into my closet and grab a pajama shirt and some shorts, but I have a feeling that he's going to make me stay in just my thong.

His eyes slowly examined my body; after a minute or so, he stared at my hips and licked his lips. With a small smirk, he told me, "You look good in black."

I gulped; he's enjoying my fear and my appearance.

He slowly sat up and then sat down on the middle of the edge on my side of the bed. He sat with his legs shoulder width a part, firmly placed his feet down onto my carpet, and sat up straight with his hands next to his outer thighs, pressed into my mattress. He looks devious, to say the least; his lips are curled into a small, but still apparent smirk, his hungry eyes are drinking in my form, and he was breathing rather loudly. He looked into my terrified eyes and hissed, "Come here."

I bit the inside of my bottom lip and walked over to him; I stopped about a foot in front of him.

His smirk widened, "You know what to do."

I sighed, mostly out of resentment. I smirked back at him and kept my arms around my chest while I slowly straddled him. He tilted his head slightly to the right and touched he left side of his nose to my left; the feeling of his cool breath against my face made me shiver. He pressed his lips against mine for a few seconds, and then pulled away, but only by a centimeter. I gently swung my legs back and forth to calm myself down, and it was working until I felt something cold and scaly. I dry heaved when I realized that I just touched Nagini. I shot my knees up and wrapped my arms around Voldemort; my left around his torso and towards his lower back, my right around his torso and towards his neck. He laughed while I shook against him and fought away tears.

He wrapped his arms around me just above my hips. He hissed something to Nagini, I don't know what he said, but I doubt it was anything I'd consider good. I gasped and squeezed him when I felt her slither across his knees and then against my back. I buried my face into the crook of his neck when I felt the tip of her forked tongue flick against the small of my back. "_Please_," I choked out, "please make this stop."

Voldemort squeezed me once before pretending to be hurt, "Do you not like Nagini?"

"Yes, err, no," A sob escaped from my chest, "I don't know! Please, just make it stop."

Voldemort laughed and waited a minute before hissing at Nagini; she hissed back, and then he hissed angrily. She slowly slid away from me and then off of his lap; she slithered back under my bed. I scooted away just enough to look into his pleased, high off of power, eyes. I drew in a deep breath before stating as firmly as possible, "Nagini cannot be in my room."

Voldemort smirked, "And why not."

I glared at him and unwrapped my arms from around him. I placed my hands on my knees and said, "I don't like to see her from afar, I cannot and will not have her in my room. She needs to leave, now."

Voldemort quietly chuckled and tapped his right fingertips up my back and to the bottom of my neck. "Where do you suggests she stays?"

"Outside, she's a snake, she's _meant_ to be outside."

Voldemort sighed, "She won't be in your room anymore, but she's not going outside."

I sighed and thought for a minute, "She can stay in the garage."

"Too cold," he smirked again, "have you forgotten that snakes are—"

"No," I rolled my eyes and sighed, "how about the living room?" I glared at him and spat, "The one where you raped me?"

Voldemort frowned in an approving way and softly tilted his head from right to left a few times, "Sure."

I locked gazes with him; his is one of contentment, mine is one of insistence.

He laughed and then hissed something out; he magically opened the door, watched Nagini slither out, and then magically closed it. He smirked and was about to say something, but I cut him off.

I angrily crossed my arms against my chest and said, "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep."

Voldemort laughed and said, "Go ahead."

I was shocked, "…What?"

Voldemort started to get up, so I quickly got off of his lap. "Then go to sleep, I'm rather sleepy myself."

I tilted my head and gave him a half confused, have angry look.

He smirked and silently chuckled once, "But you have to go to bed the way you are right now."

I loudly sighed and rolled my eyes, "Why am I not surprised?"

Voldemort laughed and made himself comfortable on the side of my bed he has claimed for himself. I sighed and made myself comfortable on my side of the bed. I situated myself near the edge while Voldemort magically turned off the light. I thought I'd actually be able to fall asleep over here, but he resituated himself in the middle of my king size bed, wrapped his right arm around me, and pulled me to him. He pressed his desire against my butt, but, to my relief, it was gradually fading. His left arm was under the pillow we're now sharing, but most of the extra left was under his own head. His body is slightly curved, causing my body to be slightly curved as well. His left leg is under my legs, and his right leg is on top of my legs, making it impossible to leave.

I couldn't fall asleep for at least half an hour; why was he being nice to me? Why was he listening to me? Why was he not angry with me? This isn't normal, this isn't right. I don't like this, at all. He either needs to get the hell out of here, or needs to maintain one personality. Is he going to be brutally awful tomorrow, or will he stay this nice? I don't like this; I don't like guessing, I don't like worrying, and I _fuckin' _hate him.

Much to my relief, my sleeping pattern is being consistent. I had another nightmare, but I've grown used to them. Instead of waking up screaming and shaking, I just wake up with a jolt, as if I was almost asleep but had a dream about falling, and I'm usually covered by a thin layer of sweat. Voldemort has moved a little bit in the last few hours; his face is almost in my hair, and his arm is still wrapped around me, but now his hand is touching the little bit of my left thigh that he can reach. I gulped, closed my eyes, emptied my mind, and fell back asleep.

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Voldemort was still asleep when I woke up, I wanted to get up and get dressed, but he has made me stuck; his legs are still around my legs, and his arm is still wrapped around me. After about half an hour, Voldemort woke up with a noisy yawn, tightly squeezed me to him, and then took his right leg off of mine.

"'Bout damn time," I said and jumped out of bed, "I need to pee."

Voldemort laughed at me and lazily watched me walk into my bathroom. I angrily shut the door behind me, locked the door, and then peed. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and then decided to take a quick shower. I magically dried off, gathered my clothes from yesterday, and walked out without a towel. I ignored Voldemort completely and made my way to my closet. I gently dropped my clothes into my laundry basket and then put on a green pair of athletic short shorts and a black boy beater. Voldemort put on a pair of black sweat pants and quietly followed me down stairs and into the kitchen. He sat down at the small table and watched as I made myself a small omelet with mushrooms, onion, and a little bit of red bell pepper. When it was done, I carefully transferred my omelet to a small plate, but the small black pan I just used in the sink, grabbed a clean fork, and then sat down on the counter. Voldemort and I stared into each other's eyes while I leisurely ate my omelet.

After a few minutes of silence, he sighed and said, "When will you be making me breakfast?"

I shrugged, "Probably never."

Voldemort smirked, "Not even if I put you under the Imperious Curse?"

I smirked right back at him, "Not even."

Voldemort laughed wickedly, "Shall we try?"

I gave him a serious look, "The hate you have put into my very being," I grinded my teeth for a few seconds, "has given me the will power and strength not to be affected by an Imperious Curse preformed by you."

Voldemort rolled his eyes and sighed; I guess he doesn't feel like dealing with my attitude this morning.

I smirked, "Volders?"

He smirked and chuckled, "Neemers?"

I rolled my eyes; I should have expected that. "You remember that… that… uhm… tightness spell you placed on me?"

He smirked, "Yes?"

I bit my bottom lip before asking, "If I were to have kids, the natural way, you know…" I chuckled, "not a C-section… Will I go back to what I am now, or does the spell not work after that?"

He half smirked, half smiled, "You'll go back. You'll forever be as tight as you are now."

I frowned approvingly, "I guess you have done me one good thing."

Voldemort smirked and stood up. He stretched his arms above his head and then walked over to the cabinets; he ended up eating Special K for breakfast. I quietly watched him while he ate his breakfast; I'm not going to deny it anymore, he's gorgeous. His previous form was scary and disgusting to say the least. He was ridiculously tall, paper white, and wore a black robe that emphasized his bony form. His hands were like large spiders, and his eyes were large, but usually squinted, almond eyes that were purely red except for the black, snake like slits for pupils. But now… If I didn't know better, I'd call him a Greek God.

His black sweat pants are somewhat baggy; they're a little too large for him, so he tightened and tied the white string inside his pants and folded the elastic band over. He's not wearing a shirt, allowing me to see every inch of his youthful torso. His skin is pale, but it still has some color. His muscle definition has improved; he must be exercising now. His back is becoming toned, his arms have much more muscle definition, and his abs are starting to come in nicely; he's also developing a "V." His hands are large and look powerful, his shoulders are broad, his jaw line is masculine and strong, and his brown, almost black hair is disheveled from sleeping. His cheekbones are high, his nose is perfectly straight, his thin lips are hungrily tunneling the milk from the bowl into his mouth, and his chin is somewhat square; I suppose that just compliments his masculine jaw. It wasn't until I looked up at his perfectly spaced, dark, evil eyes that I remembered who this man is.

I shuddered. I think he's good looking. No, I know he's good looking. This is the man who women would kill each other for, this is the man who women look at and practically cum in their chonies for. This is the monster who is torturing my family, both physically and emotionally. This is the monster who is torturing me more intensely than all my family members combined. This is the monster who is going out of his way to make sure I know that I now am under his control.

I don't think that I can wait for Harry; I may just have to figure out how to kill him myself. I wonder if Harry would be mad at me, he's only been training for the day of their final battle all his life. I suppose I could write him an apologetic letter:

_Dear Harry J. Potter,_

_I am sincerely sorry for stealing your thunder, but I really just couldn't help myself. I know that you're MacGyver's love child and all, but to tell you the truth, you're slower than the second coming._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Neema Saravia_

I started to laugh extremely hard.

Voldemort looked over at me, half with curiosity, half with some odd anger. "What's so funny?"

I smirked and fought back a laugh, "I was just thinking, if I killed you myself, should I send Harry an apologetic letter for stealing his thunder?"

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**A/N: Please review!**

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**A/N: Necromooncraft, I'm glad you gave my story a chance. I hope you're still hooked. :)**


	20. Candy Coated Misery

**Chapter Twenty: Candy Coated Misery**

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I laughed long and hard, I laughed so hard that my father left his den to inspect the kitchen. I laughed while Voldemort talked, I laughed while my father talked, I even laughed when Voldemort crucioed me. This was a new crucio though, it was much more powerful than any of the curses put on me before. Every centimeter of my body was being stabbed, every piece of my skin felt like it was being shredded, and every blood vessel in my body boiled and then exploded within my veins. My organs felt like they were being eaten by a pack of starved wolves, my bones felt like they were slowly shattering, and my lungs just stopped existing; I was screaming, but I was laughing, too. When Voldemort took the curse off of me, he hissed, as if to mock me, "What are you thinking now?"

I slowly rolled my head to the left so I could look up at him. With a dazed smile, I weakly responded, "That was pretty good," I smirked, "for a half blood."

He screamed with rage and crucioed me again. When the Hell was over, he spoke through clenched jaws, "You've pissed yourself, are you proud?"

I drew in a few deep breaths before panting out, "No, but you should be."

He was silent with curiosity.

I turned my dazed, but pained face towards him, "You're getting better. Maybe one day you'll be as good as a pureblood."

Another tsunami of pain did its best to destroy my body. He lifted the curse and laughed while I puked. Once I had caught my breath, he asked, "What are you thinking _now_?"

I cautiously avoided my puke puddle and looked over at him. I was silent for a minute, he was going to shout at me, but he refrained from doing so and watched as I situated myself so that I'd be sitting up with my knees in my chest and my hands on either side of me. I looked at him and said, "I think that I like you so much better when you're naked."

Voldemort laughed and took a seat at the small table he was at just ten or so minutes ago. I closed my eyes, thought of Draco, and hummed "Afternoon Delight" to myself while gently rocked my body from left to right. My father rushed out of the room as I started to sing, "_We can make a lot of lovin' 'fore the sun go down. Thinkin that he's workin' up an appetite, lookin' forward to a little afternoon delight…_"

Voldemort magically cleaned up my body, my puked, and walked over to me.

"_And the thought of lovin' you is gettin' so excitin'. Sky rockets in flight!_" I clapped my hands together and then shot my right one out, "_Afternoon delight! Aah ah ah ahaahhhhhhhhhhhh, Afternoon delight!_"

Voldemort grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest. I let out an, "_Oof_," when I smacked into his hard body. I leaned against his body; he may have cleaned me up, but he did nothing about my weakness. I breathed labored breaths in and out; he wrapped his left arm around my waist and put his right index and middle finger under my chin. He raised my head so that he could look down into my dazed and tired eyes.

"Are you finally admitting that you enjoy my sex?"

I sighed, "The only part of your sex that I enjoy is," I sighed again, "is the times that I successfully picture you as Draco."

He dug his short nails into my back.

I smiled and whispered, "Those are the times that I moan the loudest."

He violently shoved me into the island behind me. I cried out in pain once my already sore back made contact with it. Luckily, I fell forward instead of on it and all the sharp objects. I don't know when Voldemort stripped himself, or me, but within thirty seconds, I was naked and on my hands and knees. Voldemort got on his knees behind me and spat, "We'll. See. About. THAT!"

I drew in a deep breath when I felt the cleansing spell tickle in my ass. While I felt the tickling feeling, he preformed a lubrication spell; it was just enough for him to be able to slide his dick into my ass without it hurting _him_. I cringed and tightly grabbed onto the legs of the island. I squeezed my eyes shut, but after a minute of silence, Voldemort hissed at me with a husky, livid voice, "Moan."

I smirked, "_Oooh, Draco,"_

Voldemort dug his fingertips into my hips and started to hump me faster and harder.

"_Ahhh, ooohh, mhm!_"

He smirked.

"Fuck!" I screamed and fought back a laugh.

He was quickly becoming proud of his sexual performance.

"_Ahh! Have you gotten smaller, Drake, baby?_"

Voldemort screamed from anger and ruthlessly pounded me. It hurt more than any other sex he forced upon me; yes, I am the one receiving the physical pain, but I'm not the one who's actually losing here. For the first time ever, **I** am the torturer. For the first time ever, I am bothering Voldemort. For the first time ever, I am the one with the control. Yes, he is the dominant one here, but all my comments are driving him crazy; I have a bit of control over him. Yes, this control is causing me physical pain, and yes, this control isn't very much, but it's still control.

Voldemort became more erratic with his thrusts; he's close. I smirked and moaned, "_Oh! Ooohhh! Draco, you've never made me wait this long for an orgasm!_"

Voldemort screamed again, pounded me a few more times, and then came while still inside me. I was disgusted, so I focused on the fact that I just pissed him of in a way that he doesn't know how to react. I won't lie; he's great in the sack. I hate that; I wish he were awful so I could at least be like, "Well it was terrible and horrifying both mentally and physically, but at least he only lasts two minutes. HAHAHAHA." Unfortunately, he is absolutely, mind blowing incredible. He has more than learned my body, he has discovered all of my weak spots and memorized all my, "I'm actually in complete ecstasy, but I hate you so I'm not saying _anything_" signs and movements. He's figured out all the angles to send me into mind numbing, body thrashing pleasure. Every time I get comfortable with one position, he has us try a new one; each one better than the last. The only thing that I hate about these experiences is that it's Voldemort doing this to me, not Draco. I'll be straight up; if it were Draco doing this to me, I'd cry and beg at his feet for more.

Voldemort pulled out, rolled me onto my back and magically cleaned his still hard dick. I smirked up at him in a way that said, "_Ooooh am I fuckin' with your head_." His anger turned into sweat and rolled down his body like a waterfall. He put his hands on my calves and pushed my legs up so that my knees would only be six or seven inches away from my head. He smirked deviously down at me and immediately started to pound in me. Once my body got used to his assault, I moaned. He half smiled, half smirked, at least, he was. "_AHH! OHH! FUCK!"_ I rolled my head back and arched my back, "_YES! OH! YES! DRRRAACO!_"

Voldemort finished up, pulled out, crucioed me for a while, and then walked up to my room to take a shower. I laid there for a few more minutes, disheveled, disgusted, and disoriented, but still proud. I have once again, been used and abused, but damnit, it's not my head that was toyed with today. He may have injured me physically, but I got into his head today. I finally bothered him back. I made him feel inferior with my reference with his blood status, and I insulted his sexual performance, _and_ I looked into his eyes while moaning Draco; the pain is worth it.

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It's been about four days since the episode in the kitchen; he hasn't talked to me, but he has slept in the same fashion as the night before I drove him crazy. Well, crazier than he already is, which is really quite amazing; I thought he was already one hundred percent insane. However, the last two nights he has had Nagini not only sleeping in my room, but by our feet on my bed. The first night was terrifying; I shook and cried in his chest while sweating more than if I were exercising. He laughed for a while, but fell asleep once I stopped sobbing. I was wide-awake for another hour, but then thought about my options: I could stay in the arms of my rapist, or I could take my chances with a snake that hates me and would like to devour me. Decisions, decisions…

I decided to stay in the safety of the arms of my rapist. HAHAHAHA. I should be a comedian, really. I sighed and tried to roll over, but couldn't, so I stretched my body for a minute and then cuddled into his chest. He's warm, okay?

Don't judge me.

When I woke up the next morning, he was already awake. He stared down at me, but even when we made eye contact, he stayed silent. I stretched and yawned; he chuckled. "What?"

With a smirk, he replied, "Your yawn is cute."

"_Aww_," I was obviously not pleased, at all. I made it apparent that I'm exaggerating and acting and snuggled into him, "I love you, too, Voldie."

He laughed and rolled on top of me; most of his weight was on his elbows, the rest was on my hips. To my relief, he wasn't hard or making any sexual movements with his hips. He tilted his head to the right and placed his lips against mine, but he didn't kiss me, he just applied pressure. He pulled away after thirty or so seconds, but by only a centimeter; "Why don't we get out of the house today?"

I stared up at him.

He stayed silent, but he wasn't angry, to tell you the truth, his facial expression was soft and inviting.

I sighed and then whispered, "I'd really appreciate it if you'd pick a personality and then stick with it."

He laughed and then kissed me for a second or two. He rolled off of me and sat at the edge of the bed. He hissed something at Nagini and she hissed back; he shot up and angrily hissed at her. My door magically slammed open and she quickly slithered out. He stared out the door for a minute before he magically closed it and took a shower. Once he was done with my bathroom, I walked in and took a long shower. Once I got out of the shower, I dried my face and I quickly put on some make-up, put a bronze color eyeliner on my bottom lids, and then did my curly hair routine. I magically dried my body and then my hair before walking out of my bathroom with a towel tightly wrapped around me. The second I came out was the second I gasped; he looked up and deviously smirked.

Sunlight flooded my room, highlighting him perfectly; the sun gave his dark brown hair a slightly goldish glow about it and emphasized his every feature. I gulped after slowly analyzing him and realized what he's wearing: black shoes, dark blue, well fitting denim, and a brown, orange, and black plaid shirt. I drew in a deep breath, looked him over again while he finished buttoning up the plaid shirt, and walked over to my closet. I tossed my dirty clothes from the night before into my laundry basket and quickly put on a red, pink, and purple polka dot thong with small bows on the sides. I put on the matching polka dot push up bra, and then walked over to my jeans. Voldemort slowly walked in and stood behind me; he looked at my jeans, too. Before he could say anything, I said, "I'm picking my own outfit today."

He chuckled and conjured a comfortable armchair out of nothing. I rolled my eyes and thought aloud, "That is ridiculous."

Voldemort chuckled, put his hands behind his head, and firmly planted his feet shoulder width apart while staring at me. I ignored the feeling of his eyes burning into my body and took down a pair of jeans that I bought with Draco. They're solid black, pretty tight, and fit me wonderfully; they emphasize the curve of my hips, the shapeliness of my outer thighs, and make my butt look fantastic. I slowly stepped into them and carefully pulled them up. Once my pants were all the way on, I walked over to my shirts. I looked at Voldemort over my right shoulder, "Are we going somewhere cold or warm?"

He shrugged, "It's August, _darling_,"

I glared at him.

He smirked, "It's probably going to be hot. If it's not, we can grab a jacket for you."

I drew in a deep breath and gently took down a one shoulder, slightly scrunched shirt. It's a dark magenta, and has a few flamingoes printed on it; there's quite a height difference between Voldemort and I, so I put on a pair of matching magenta, four-inch heels. They're stilettos and have a ribbon to tie around my ankle. Voldemort got up, walked over to me, and chuckled. He's about six feet tall, and I'm not five foot eight, making the top of my head at the bottom of his ear. He wrapped his left arm tightly and possessively around me and said, "Shall we go downtown?"

I leaned away from him and looked up into his eyes, I can now see that they're not dark brow, but midnight blue. "Won't an older wizard recognize you?"

Voldemort laughed and rolled his eyes, "Not to Diagon Alley, Neema," he gently tapped the tip of my nose with his right index finger, "the muggle down town."

I looked at him with disbelief and a little bit of humor, "_You_? _You_ go to the _muggle_ down town?"

Voldemort shrugged and smirked, "I'm in a good mood."

I sighed and held onto him, "Lets just get the apperation over with."

He laughed and apperated us to a deserted alley near the main street of town. I looked up at him with curiosity, "Why doesn't it hurt when you apperate?"

He kept his left arm around me and said, "I always hated the feeling, so when I was in my early twenties, I figured out how to apperate without the pain."

"And how do you do that?"

Voldemort smirked down at me, "If I told you that, I'd create one lesson reason for you to need me."

I angrily sighed, "I don't _need_ you. The only thing I _need_ about you is for you to leave me the hell alone."

Voldemort ignored my comment and let his ego grow at all the looks the muggles were giving us. The women stared at him; some stared over their shoulders at him, a few even did shameless double takes. He knew they were drinking him in, undressing him with their eyes, and soon would be fantasizing him, and he loved it. He even loved that men were doing the same to me as the women were doing to him; I thought he'd be the jealous or angry type, but he loved it. He loved knowing that numerous others wanted me, and he is the one who has me, who has control over me, who can take me whenever he damn well wants. It sent him on a whole new high; his high put him in such a good mood that he was smiling over nothing while we walked around.

He ended up taking us to a small café; he had water and I had a tall, but thin glass of milk and a blue berry muffin. He watched as I leisurely ate my muffin and took the occasional sip of milk to cure the dryness of my mouth caused by the muffin. I sighed once I was done with my muffin and took a few sips of milk. He looked at me with curiosity, "What?"

I shrugged and stared off into the distance, "I'm considering ditching you out here, just leaving."

He smirked and leaned closer to me, "Why don't you?"

I shrugged my shoulders again and stared into my glass of milk, "I guess I have Stockholm's Syndrome."

Voldemort laughed.

I laughed.

Voldemort kept laughing.

I wanted to die; how could I get along with him? How can I be having a good time? How can I keep thinking he's so gorgeous? Why can't I just fully hate him with all of my being? Just because he's nice every once and a while? Just because he's actually quite an amazing and considerate lover, excluding the first time he raped me and the episode a few days ago.

Voldemort stopped laughing, but he smiled.

I drew in a deep breath; it's going to be a long day.

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**A/N: The more reviews this chapter gets, the faster the next chapter gets published. :P**

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A/N: I just saw that I have 3,607 hits (but only twenty three reviews :C), and that's amazing! Thank you to all of you readers! :D**


	21. Go Crazy

**Chapter Twenty-One: Go Crazy**

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We sat at the small table in silence for a long time before Voldemort sighed, to my dismay, happily, and said, "You look cute in love."

I looked up at him; my facial expression was a mixture of shock and disgust, "I don't love you!"

He laughed and leaned back against the chair, "I didn't say you were in love with me."

I stayed silent.

His lips curled into a smirk, "I know about you and Draco."

I gulped.

He laughed coldly, "I'm not upset, I'm not going to hurt either of you over it."

A loud sigh of relief came from me.

His smirk returned, "You're still mine, though. Go ahead," he waved at nothing, "be in a relationship," his insane, cold eyes locked gazes with mine, "but you're still mine. I'll do as I damn well please with you."

I sighed angrily, "Will you please explain to me what the hell your wand trick proved?"

He laughed and leaned forward, "Oh sweet Neema," he purred and put his hands down on the middle of the small table, "What version would you like?"

I tilted my head to the left, crossed my arms against my chest, and said, "The version that is the truth."

He smirked again, "It's a rather long—"

"Then just take me to the point."

Voldemort's eyes were filled with twisted amusement, "Long story short…" His smirk curled into a different type of sick, one he never showed me before, "You could have my heir."

I choked on nothing, my eyes widened to the size of my head, and a thin sheet of sweat quickly covered my body.

Voldemort laughed again, "Stop worrying, I don't want an heir."

I stopped sweating.

"I'm immortal, I have no use for an heir."

I could breath again.

"Besides, if it was anything like me, I'd have to kill it. It'd want to kill me and take over."

My eyes slowly went back to their normal size.

He refrained from laughing, "And if it were anything like you, I'd have to kill it. It'd want to kill me—"

"Because you're a total bastard. Yeah, I know."

Voldemort laughed and lightly, almost playfully, slapped my face. With a calm, kind facial expression, he whispered, "If we weren't in muggle public, I'd slap you _much_ harder."

I firmly planted my feet on the floor beneath me and pushed my chair back about six inches. "If you didn't have those damn horcruxes, I'd kill you. Muggle public or not."

He smirked crookedly, "Then I'll make sure you and Harry don't ever team up."

I couldn't help but to laugh. I guess I might as well have an okay time while Voldemort is still in a good mood. Plus, we're in muggle public; he's not going to torture me here, it'd make the ministry easy to find him. Not that they could take him down, they're filled with cowards and his supporters. There are a few brave, intelligent people in the ministry, but not enough to take him down, probably not enough to get anything of value done. Voldemort stood up and walked over to me; he stuck out his right hand and said, "Come on, lets leave."

I drew in a deep breath and cautiously put my left hand in his open right hand. He gently, but quickly pulled me up and into his chest. He smirked down at me and started to walk out of the outdoor café with us holding hands. Once we were back on the street, he put only four of five inches of space between us and lightly, almost absent-mindedly, swung our hands back and forth. We walked down to the pier in total silence, which is impressive since that's about an hour walk. The pier was crowded, so he let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around me; I couldn't tell if it was out of possessiveness, or maybe he didn't want me to take my chance and leave, or maybe he was trying to keep me safe…? Oh Hell if I know, the only thing I know about him is that he's totally insane and is a sex God. An evil, evil, totally soul crushing, sex God.

I sighed, causing him to look down at me, "What?"

Without looking up at him, I replied, "I'm just thinking about how much I hate you."

He laughed, "What else?"

I stayed silent for a minute; if I didn't tell him he'd just break into my mind, "About how I wish you mean _all_ the time, or at least completely awful in the sack."

He laughed again, "Why do you want either of those things?"

"It'd make hating you with my entire being much easier."

He smirked, but didn't say anything. We walked away from the pier and to the near by beach; I took off my shoes, cuffed my pants up so that they'd be a few inches above my ankles, and then stood back up right as Voldemort finished doing the same basic thing. Voldemort grabbed hold of my left hand, so I held both my heels in my right hand, and he held his shoes in his left. Without saying anything, he walked us to where the tide rolls onto the shore. I ignored him and happily wiggled my toes into the wet sand and enjoyed the feeling of the cool water splashing my ankles. Voldemort tenderly squeezed my hand while I thought about Draco; I know I'm just sixteen, I know that we've only felt like this for a month now, but I don't care. I can't picture myself happy with anyone else, and I've never been more excited to go back to Hogwarts. Believe me, I was extremely excited to go to Hogwarts my first year; I've grown up shopping for it with my siblings and dropping them off and not being able to go. As far as Hogwarts is concerned, I've always been jealous of Drea because she got to go to school with Gaston, and she gets to go to school with me, too. Gaston and I are too many years apart to have gone to school together; I'm sixteen and he's twenty four, and Drea is seventeen, meaning that when she was a first year, Gaston was a seventh year. So they probably didn't really get to hang out, but still, they got to be together, leaving me pretty much alone in the house.

This year, sixth year, I'll be away from Voldemort, he won't be able to torment me for a year. Well, nine months… Actually, I come back for Christmas, so he'll probably give me some sort of sexual "gift", but still, most of my time will be at Hogwarts with Draco, not with Voldemort. I thought to myself, "And Harry thinks he has it _hard_." I couldn't help but to laugh.

Voldemort looked down at me, "What are you laughing about?"

I looked up into his surprisingly soft, midnight blue eyes, "I just thought, 'And Harry thinks he has it _hard_'." I started to laugh again, but he didn't. I started to laugh nervously, "Get it? _Hard_. 'Cause you rape me, and to do that you have to be hard…."

Voldemort chuckled, but it was a silent chuckle, and it was only once.

I drew in a deep breath and looked down at the water splashing my ankles. I mumbled, "I thought it was funny."

Voldemort let go of my hand, took a sideways step toward me, leaving no space in between us, and loosely wrapped his right arm around me. "Do you like to know your surprises in advanced, or like to wait until they're meant to be given?"

I arched my right brow and looked up at him, "If I know it in advance, it's not a surprise."

He laughed, squatted a little bit, kissed the top of my head, and then stood back up.

I sighed, "However, I don't like surprises, so I would appreciate knowing whatever the hell you have planned for me, now."

He looked down at me, "I've arranged for you to come back home on Halloween, Easter, and few other days."

My facial expression was nothing less of angry, "Halloween? Now I'm going to miss the party! I love going to the Halloween party!"

He smirked, "I've arranged these things with Snape. I knew you'd react like this, so I had him push the party back a day. You'll still be able to go to all the balls."

My expression was an angry type of astonishment, "How could you have the kind of power in Hogwarts?"

He squeezed my side once and purred, "Neema, Neema, Neema."

I rolled my eyes, "Voldie, Voldie, Voldie."

He laughed and kissed my forehead, "Snape has talked with Dumbledore, he told him how your family wants you and Drea back during those dates."

I drew in another angry breath, "Don't you dare touch Drea."

His smirk widened, "What? You wouldn't be jealous, would you?"

"Oh sweet Jesus!" I glared at him, "Don't flatter yourself, I just love my sister." I stood up on my tiptoes and growled, "If you ever touch _anyone_ in my family, I will not hesitate to kill you. And when I have kids, if you even _look_ at them sexually, I will kill you again."

"Again?" he scoffed.

I stood on my feet again, "I doubt I'll ever find all your horcruxes and properly destroy them _and_ kill you, so I'll just kill you, wait for you to come back, and kill you again."

Voldemort laughed and rolled his eyes, "You're a cutie, really Neema, you are."

I looked back at the beautiful ocean in front of me. I ignored him and thought about Draco and how our life at Hogwarts will be. How I'll go to all the balls with him, how he'd take me out during Hogsmeade visitation days, about how happy we'll be together. We could happily stroll the streets of Hogsmeade; we could have butter beers in the cold winter, we could swim in the Black Lake when it's hot in spring and summer. We could simply just sit down next to each other during classes, we could study together, and we could take breaks from each other to be with our friends, which will just make us miss each other. We could attend balls together and not give a damn if anyone gossips about it; we could sneak away to the Prefect's Bathroom or the Room of Requirement for other types of exploration.

He could surprise me with gifts, or simply just his unplanned presence; either would make me happy. We could sleep in the same bed, partly out of love, partly out of how I don't have nightmares when I'm in a bed with him. My dad told my brother something very interesting and sweet when I was younger and when Gaston was "becoming a young man": "Love isn't a fun time in the back seat, and it isn't just thinking about her all the time. Love is waking up and your first thought is, 'My God, she's beautiful,' or 'How did I get so lucky?' Love is brushing your teeth together, love is being completely happy with the silence; not because you need a break from listening, but because you're happy just being with them."

Now that I'm older I understand what my dad was talking about. When I was younger I didn't quite get what he was saying, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and it's true. When I woke up the other day in Draco's arms, looking up at his sleeping face, I was so happy I could have cried. The feeling of arms wrapped arm around me, his soft breath on my face and neck… I wouldn't trade that moment for anything, not even for Voldemort to leave me alone, to just die already. God, I hope Draco feels the same way. I hope I'm not more into him than he is into me; that'd be worse than completely, one hundred horrible.

The way he makes me feel… I don't give a damn if our friends will approve or not. I'm not quite sure how our friends will take our sudden relationship, but I honestly don't care, they'll just have to adjust. Hopefully Draco feels the same, the same referring to how I'm not going to go back to treating him like shit just because the summer is over. I truly think that I'm in love with him, and I don't want to have to hide that away to conform to some stupid no Gryffindor/Slytherin tradition, or to please those around me. I'm continuously mentally tortured and physically raped; I deserve any happiness that I can get. I don't give a damn about the thoughts of others when it comes to me being with Draco, because when it comes to Draco and I, only our thoughts and opinions matter.

Voldemort interrupted my thoughts by saying, "Lets go get some clam chowder at the pier."

I didn't respond, I just walked with him back to the cement and wiggled my toes while he silently preformed a cleansing spell and drying spell on us. I let go of his hand so that I can put my shoes back on and uncuff my pants; he did the same. He grabbed hold of my hand again and led us to the small restaurant on the large pier. He ordered two clam chowders; they were ready within several minutes, and came in warm bread bowls. I grabbed us napkins and spoons while he took the clam chowders; I silently followed him to an empty bench and sat down six inches away from him. He handed me a bread bowl and then I handed him a small stack of napkins and a spoon. We occasionally glanced at each other, but other than that, we ate in silence. Once I was about halfway done with the chowder, I turned my head to left, looked at his chowder, and then asked, "Did yours have mushrooms, too?"

He smirked evilly and glanced at me with a wild look in his eyes, "No."

I gulped, "What did you put into my chowder, and why?"

He softly laughed, but it was still very cold, "While I was speaking with Snape, I had him give me several small bags of mushrooms—"

"God damn you!" I slammed my bread bowl down between us on the bench; I slammed it hard enough to show that I'm upset, but soft enough so that the chowder wouldn't spill or splash out. I gave him a very, _very_ angry look and said, "Now I'm going to go on some weird trip and I'll have flashbacks and—"

Voldemort rolled his eyes, "Neema—"

I crossed my left leg over my right leg at the knee, crossed my arms against my chest, and said, "You're a fuckin' asshole."

Voldemort laughed, "They're not magic mushrooms. Well, they're magic, but not the muggle way." Voldemort laughed again.

I quickly turned my head to look him in the eyes, "When did you even have the chance to do that?"

He sighed and looked at me as if I were the stupidest person in the world, "Neema, please, I'm a wizard. I'm THE most powerful dark wizard in history. I don't need to find a physical chance to do these sort of things."

I glared at him, "I hate you so much."

He laughed at me, "Good."

I stayed silent.

"These mushrooms won't have any returning effect on you. Once their magic is done, it's done."

I drew in a deep breath before saying, "Good, you asshat."

He laughed at me.

"How much did you use, what do they do, and why did you give them to me?"

He stopped laughing and smirked, "I put in half of the smallest bag, they make you lose all your inhibitions and rational reasoning, and because I want to have some real fun with you."

I gulped, "How long with this last?"

He half smiled, half smirked, "Until tomorrow morning, they should start working within ten minutes."

I sighed angrily, "Do tell me what sort of fun you're talking about."

He picked up my bowl of chowder, put it down on the left side of the bench, scooted over to me, and wrapped an arm around me. "Casual fun while in public," he smirked down at me, "naughty fun back in your room."

I put an obviously fake expression of happiness and excitement on my face, "That's fantastic!"

He laughed, "I know."

I breathed out through my nose quite loudly; now I'm definitely going to be sick with myself. I'm going to enjoy him; I'm going to enjoy everything we do for the rest of the day and all night. I'm going to recollect on that time and I'm going to know that deep down, I really did like it. He's being nice, for him, and he's going to blow my mind tonight a thousand different, fantastic, inexpressible ways. I looked up at him, "I hate you more than I thought possible."

He kissed the tip of my nose, "Shush Neema, allow yourself to enjoy something for once."

I laughed with disbelief and rolled my eyes, "Because I'm such a miserable person when it comes to anything and everything."

He grinned and kissed the tip of my nose again, "We both know you think I'm handsome, we both know you like how I touch you, and we both know you like it when I'm nice to you like this."

I bit the inside of my lip. "Yes, nice."

He softly laughed, "Yes, nice."

I sighed, "That's a weird way to say "'relaxed psychopath'."

He rolled his eyes.

I laughed at him.

Voldemort looked at me again and continued his previous thought, "So calm the hell down already," he smirked, "I won't tell anyone if you don't."

"I would never tell!" I glared at him, he knows I mean my secret enjoyment, "And I don't care about other people when it comes to you and me, I care about how I have to live with myself."

He sighed and looked at the ocean, "I don't."

I rolled my eyes again, "How surprising."

He laughed.

I laughed.

He smirked.

I didn't care; the damn mushrooms were starting to kick in, and I didn't think about it, I don't want to fight something I'm not going to win.

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**A/N: I'm going to continue the next chapter with the rest of their afternoon and evening, but I'll only write the crazy awesome sex they're going to have if you guys want me to. So go review! :D**

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**A/N: scara1, thanks for your numerous reviews! And thanks to all of you who have reviewed; I just reached 4,000 hits and like 3,500 something visitors, so thanks to all of you who are reading, and a bigger thanks to those who take some time to write me! I hope ya'll are still enjoying the story. :D**

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**A/N: I was going to post this on the eighth chapter for Holiday From Real, but since Cass reads this story, too, I'll just post it here: The fact that you read my ten and up page chapters on your phone amazes me. I hate reading anything except texts on my phone. Thank you so much for your reviews, and I'm glad you "love" my stories; that makes me happier than I can say. And I **_**totally**_** understand about how your phone puts in the wrong word or doesn't fix the word you're using, my phone does that, too.**

**~(o.o)~**

**That's not me doing the wave, that's steam coming out of my ears. Hahahaha. (Just imagine the face angry; FanFiction won't allow me to use the greater than and lesser than signs.)**


	22. Kiss Me Deadly

**Chapter Twenty—Two: Kiss Me Deadly**

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My body relaxed along with my mind; Voldemort saw this and stood up, "Lets go."

I drew in a deep, content breath, "Okay." Voldemort grabbed hold of my hand and walked back to the long, busy street we walked to get here. We ended up spending an hour at a muggle bookshop. I made a B-line for the original fiction section and ended up taking down a copy of The Perks of Being a Wall Flower, Youth In Revolt, and A Wrinkle in Time. I didn't bother buying the several books after A Wrinkle Time because I wasn't sure if was going to like the first book; if I did, I'll come back and by the rest of the series. I then walked over to the classics section; I took down Dracula, Tarzan of the Apes, To a God Unknown, East of Eden, The Death of the Heart, Don Quixote, The Three Musketeers, and Frankenstein. Voldemort sighed and asked me, "_That_ many?"

I bit my bottom lip and looked up at him with big, innocent eyes. I whispered, "Please, my lord?

He sighed and gently caressed the right side of my face and smirked as I struggled to hold all the books in my arms. "Fine, I suppose I can give you more than orgasms."

I laughed and followed him to the counter. The small old lady behind the counter commented positively on my book choices and carefully put them into a small box. Voldemort paid while I told the old lady thank you; once we were outside of the shop, Voldemort magically put the box of books in my room and led me to a jewelry store about three blocks away. He focused my attention on two, beautiful, matching, wing shaped cuffs. "I saw them on our walk up to the pier; do you like them?"

I looked at them in awe and drew in a quiet, but deep breath, "They're gorgeous."

"Then lets go buy them." He tugged on my hand in an attempt to pull me into the store, but I said,

"My lord, surely those are very expensive—"

He laughed, "I just spent close to two hundred dollars on books, I can spend some money on bracelets for you."

I laughed and followed him into the shop. He walked up to the young woman who was staring at us, mostly at him, and asked her to bring out the cuffs that we were just looking at. She took out a pair that they had for sale, not just decoration, and I tried them on. They were a little too large, so she took out a pair of cuffs one size smaller; those fit perfectly. I looked down at the gorgeous, shinny scarlet of the cuffs and the gold outlining the cuffs and the separate wings. Voldemort bought the cuffs while I moved my wrists around and secretly loved them; they look great against my skin tone, plus they remind me of my house, Gryffindor. Once we were outside of the shop, I put the cuffs back into their box, and he magically sent them into my room.

He then tenderly held my left hand and walked very close to me. We walked around for a while, but I stopped walking when I caught sight of a club. I tugged his hand, forcing him to look at me. I stepped closer to him, putting only three or so inches in between us,

"Lets go dance."

He frowned crookedly and said, "I don't really like dancing."

I laughed at him, "Are you telling me that the Dark Lord, the most powerful dark wizard in all of history, can't dance?"

He grinned, "I can dance."

"Then lets go!" I grabbed his hand and ran to the door of the club. I'm not sure when he did this, but he transfigured air into two ID's with the needed age into the club. When we were asked for our IDs, Voldemort pulled his out of his left pocket, so I checked my right and pulled mine out. The bouncer at the door let us in while we pocketed our IDs. We weren't five steps in before I said, "Be amazing and buy me a drink?"

Voldemort smirked and walked us up to the bar; we both had a few shots before going onto the dance floor. I giggled and dragged him to where the music was loud enough not to talk, but not so loud that my ears weren't going to bleed. It took him a song or two to actually be loose enough to dance, but when he did start to dance, he was actually pretty good. The songs were fast paced and predictably sexy, so we danced that way. I didn't care that I was dancing with Voldemort, I didn't care that he's the one touching me so provocatively, or that I could feel him getting hard through our jeans. A thin layer of sweat quickly covered me; I was more than thankful that the songs slowed down a bit. "Sexting" by Ludacris started to play; I laughed at the opening and grabbed Voldemort's hands from my hips. I stretched our arms out, rolled my hips and grinded against him; he gasped in my ear and I laughed at him, but only once.

Voldemort followed my lead; I danced from left and right while grinding against him. I added random leans, drops, and other moves while the song progressed. Voldemort stepped a few inches back, twirled me once and then into his chest. We grinded, face to face, while the song faded into "Sexy Can I" by Ray J; he put one hand on my left hip and one on my ass, forcing me to grind exactly how he liked. He sighed from pleasure as I wiggled and rolled my hips against him. I ran my hands up his shirt and up and down his back, feeling all the new definition. He, somehow, slipped the hand on my hip an inch or two down the side of my super tight jeans and played with the thin strap of my thong. We continued this all through the song and into the next song, "Sex In Crazy Places" by Gucci Mane started to play. Our grinding lessened as I wrapped my arms around his neck and started to bop; he followed my lead with a big smirk on his face and lust in his eyes.

I laughed and rolled my eyes while he sang along, "_I wanna do you at cho momma house, on the couch, do you in the bathroom or the air-o-plane. Do you on a balcony, in the taxi, cause I can't get enough of that thing_."

I was going to laugh at him, but he grabbed my ass and pulled me against him. I gasped at the feeling of his significantly harder boner. He smirked deviously and sand, "_I'm gon throw it, you the center when you hike it, I'm a spike it, girl don't act like you don't like it._"

I smirked, wrapped my arms around his neck, and followed his dancing lead; "_Do me at my mama house? Nah, I don't think so, I go too much class but you can try to San Pedro. I need the biggest mansion, ocean back yard with the newest Maybach, inside a black card._"

He laughed, "_Tonight I'll touch you in your favorite spot, promise to get your body so hot_," He didn't continue with the verse like he did before, he captured my lips in the most lustful kiss I've ever experienced; it was short, but it was hot. He groped me while we danced, nibbled on my lips, and gently sucked on my tongue. I groaned as he pulled away, "_In front of the police, in front of our daddy, girl it's you and me, and I don't give a damn, that's why they call me Lord Veeeee!_"

I laughed into his chest while he continued groping me and dancing. The song faded into "Lolli Lolli (Pop That Body)" by Three 6 Mafia; I couldn't help myself. I slapped his hands off of me and then dropped. He tilted his head to the left and groaned; when I bounced back up he tightly squeezed me to him and huskily whispered in my ear, "I need you. Now."

I dropped one more time just for kicks, smirked at his reaction, and then bounced back up. "Then lets go home."

He smirked, squeezed me to him, and apperated us into my home. We stumbled back against the counter. He heaved me up onto the counter and wrapped my legs around him. He roughly grinded me and started to kiss all over my neck; I moaned loudly, wrapped my left arm under his arms and put my hand in the middle of his shoulder blades, and I ran my right hand through his hair. A glass loudly clanked against the floor and rattled for thirty or so seconds; I lazily opened my eyes to see a very surprised Draco with a small handful of mushrooms, apparently he thought they tasted good, too.

I put my hands on Voldemort's chest and pushed him away. He looked up at me, so I turned his head so that he could see Draco. Voldemort smirked and hissed, "Why don't you join us, Draco?"

Draco and I said in unison, "Wha—wha—what?"

Voldemort unwrapped my legs and then slung me over his shoulder; I shrieked from surprise. Voldemort walked past Draco and said, "Follow me." Draco quickly ate the last of the mushrooms in his hand and followed us up the stairs and into my room. Voldemort tossed me onto my bed and magically locked the door; he ruffled his hair and kicked off his shoes. Draco gulped, but I could see the mushrooms slowly relaxing him. I sat up, put my arms behind me for support, and watched as Voldemort undressed.

Draco gulped and stuttered out, "Mah—my lord—"

Voldemort laughed, "I'm not fucking you, Draco, I'm straight."

Draco seemed very relieved.

Voldemort looked at Draco over his shoulder, "Strip down to your boxers, Neema isn't going to sleep tonight."

I sat up straighter, put my hands up towards the ceiling with my palms up, pumped my hands up and down while leaning from left to right, "Whoot! Whoot!"

Voldemort laughed at me while Draco slowly stripped down to his silver boxers. I laughed when I saw Voldemort in green boxers. Voldemort looked at me while I lightly nodded my head, "Aww yea, Slytherin boys." Voldemort smirked and Draco blushed, I looked at Draco, quickly licked my lips, and said, "Slytherin boys have big snakes."

Voldemort and I busted with laughter. Voldemort sighed and then said, "Get up."

I immediately slid off of my bed and stood up. Voldemort put both his hands on my face and roughly kissed me. After a few minutes passed of our intense make out session, he literally tore my shirt off of my body and pushed me down onto my bed. He magically took my jeans off and nonverbally called his wand to him. He preformed a cleansing spell on my ass and saw me look down at my shirt with sadness. When we made eye contact I pouted and mumbled, "I loved that shirt." He rolled his eyes and magically repaired my shirt; I smiled widely.

He quickly went back to roughly kissing me; I groaned against his lips as he unclasped my bra, slid it off of me, and tossed it to the side. I put my arms behind me for support while he waved Draco over, kissed down my jaw line, and the left side of my neck. He sat down next to me and kissed the weak spots on my neck. The mushrooms completely relaxed Draco; he sat down at my left and started to kiss my neck and my weak spots, too. They kissed down my neck, nipped at my collarbone and shoulders, and leisurely made their way to my breasts. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and groaned as they both licked and sucked my nipples. They both smirked while supporting their bodies with one hand and using their free hands to grope and caress my body. Voldemort told Draco something, but as you can imagine, I wasn't paying attention to their words.

Next thing I know, they're slowly kissing, licking, and gently sucking their way down my body. Draco and I groaned when he licked the soft flesh just above the top of my panties. I looked down at him with dazed, happy eyes, "I love you."

He smiled and kissed my belly button, making me giggle, "I love you, too."

"_Aww_," Voldemort mocked us, "young love."

I sneered at Voldemort while Draco blushed; Voldemort laughed and hooked his index and middle fingers under the straps of my thong. He slowly pulled my thong down; I lifted my hips so that he could pull it to my knees, he smirked down at me and slowly pulled them to my ankles. He tossed them near my bra, got down on his knees, and ran his hands from my ankles to my hips. He spread my legs, and kissed and licked my left inner thigh. Draco got down on his knees, too, and did the same thing. I wiggled my hips from anticipation and groaned. My body tensed for a second when Draco quickly licked my slit. Voldemort chuckled and said, "Watch and learn."

Draco moved and Voldemort immediately tickled me with his tongue. He slowly licked me down and then up. He smirked and lightly squeezed my left thigh while slowly exploring my folds with the tip of his tongue. I moaned as he teased me; he winked at Draco and then flicked his tongue against my aching clit. I grabbed at my sheets and moaned loudly; he circled my clit with the tip of his tongue several times before laying it flat, added a lot of pressure, and slowly licked it. My breathing became labored, some sweat started to form on my forehead, and I groaned. Voldemort licked and sucked on my clit for a minute or two before surprising me by plunging his tongue into my dripping entrance. My eyes shot open and I half shouted, half moaned. Draco quickly took Voldemort's place and licked and sucked on my clit. They kept my legs spread and up at ninety degrees; my legs flailed while their motions became more rhythmic and intense. My breaths were short, fast, and loud while my eyes fluttered open and close and I gripped the sheets behind me. My upper body collapsed into the bed and my back arched as a string of moans flew out of my mouth. They both smirked and quickened their motions; I shuddered and practically screamed when they made me orgasm. They smirked and traded places; Voldemort circled my clit because I was too sensitive to touch, and Draco circled and teased my entrance.

I groaned in twisted pleasure; I've never had such an amazing orgasm in my life. Draco smirked up at my sweaty, panting form and slowly slid his tongue into me. I groaned as he did a rolling, almost wave like motion with his tongue; my next orgasm was quickly building. Voldemort gently touched the tip of his tongue to my clit to see if I was going to react with pleasure or pain, I reacted with the former, so he slowly started to lick it. I ran my hands up and down my torso, but then Voldemort shot his right hand up and fondled my breasts, so I moaned and gripped my sheets again. Draco gradually tongue fucked me at a much faster pace; when I was just a moment away from an orgasm, he replaced his tongue with his right index and middle finger. It took a few tries, but he found my G-spot and showed it no mercy. I moaned from the feeling, but screamed out of pleasure when Voldemort sucked my clit in and out of his mouth at a very fast pace. I bucked my hips up several times, clenched my sheets, and loudly moaned. Draco slowed and came to a gradual stop, as did Voldemort.

They stood up and smirked as they drank in my pleasured, sweaty, panting form. I slowly sat up and put my hands at my sides for some support. I looked up at them with dazed eyes, "My… God. That was…" I drew in a few deep breaths, "That was _fantastic_."

Voldemort laughed while Draco ran his hands through his hair, but stopped at the back of his head. He rested his hands on the back of his neck and said, "You're very sweet, Neemie."

Voldemort and I laughed while I scooted closer to Draco. I winked up at him and slowly peeled his boxers off of his body; I leaned into my lap as I pulled them all the way down; he stepped out of them and closer to me. Voldemort took off his own boxers while Draco smirked down at me the same time I smirked up at him; I licked my right hand and gently squeezed the base of his dick, he groaned. I flicked my tongue against the head of his dick and licked up his precum. I started to lick up and down his dick, applying extra pressure to the bulging vein, warning me of his soon to be orgasm. I sucked him into my mouth and jerked the length of his dick that I couldn't blow. His breathing quickened and his hips bucked for a second. I quickened both the pace of my sucking and my jerking; he came within the same minute. He slowly slid his dick out of my mouth, forcing me to swallow his load, but I'll be honest, I didn't mind. We made eye contact, so I licked my lips, he groaned.

Draco stepped aside and Voldemort stepped in front of me, "Stand up." I quickly got to my feet. Voldemort wrapped his arms around my waist and heaved me up, so I wrapped my legs around his waist. He smirked and pressed me against the nearest wall. He spread my legs, but then wrapped his right arm under my left knee and placed my knee to just under my breast. He rubbed the tip of his throbbing erection against me and smirked while I groaned. He huskily hissed, "How bad do you want my dick?"

I groaned and whispered, "Badly."

He kissed me quickly on the lips, "Louder."

I gulped and said in my regular voice, "Badly."

He smirked, "Louder."

Just under a shout, I said, "Badly."

He kissed me again before saying, "Tell me why."

I rolled my eyes but replied, "Because it's long and it's thick and you know how to use it."

He laughed coldly, but it was still a lustful laugh. He slowly slid the head of his dick into me and watched my facial expression be overcome by pleasure. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and softly moan as he slowly slid the rest of his length into me. He started off slow, but steadily gained speed. I ran my nails up and down his back while he started to slam me into the wall; he groaned while I nearly screamed. He pulled all the way out, changed his angle, and then slammed back into me; I screamed his name. He smirked and watched my breasts jiggle and drank in the sounds of my moans. With a gruff voice, he said, "You like this?"

"_Oooh! Yes!_"

He roughly and sloppily kissed me on the lips. When he pulled away, he asked, "You like being fucked, Neema? You like a hard fucking?"

I dug my nails into his upper back, "_Ahh! Ohh! Yeee—oouhh! YES!_"

He smirked and grunted, "That's what I thought, I always knew you did."

I groaned out, "Stop talking and just fuck me."

He laughed but quickly obliged. I violently orgasmed within two minutes; my orgasm set off his. He deafeningly groaned at the feeling of my sensual walls squeezing his dick; he slammed his full length into me twice before coming. We panted for a moment, enjoying our orgasms, before he slowly pulled out and set me down on my bed. I sighed at the familiar tingle of his cleansing spell. He chuckled and looked at Draco, "Would you like a turn, Draco? She is, after all, _your_ girlfriend."

I rolled my eyes at his mockery and made eye contact with Draco; we're both too relaxed from the mushrooms to be disgusted or hurt. I sat up and gently patted Voldemort's right bicep, "Thanks for the warm up," I laughed and looked at Draco, "I'm ready for ya, big boy."

Draco and I laughed while Voldemort rolled his eyes, his cock slowly hardening again. Draco laid down and smirked at me, "I wanna watch you ride." I giggled and straddled him; he adjusted the pillows behind his head and watched as I slowly slid down his dick. He groaned and gripped my hips while I tilted my head back and rested my hands against his chest. I rode him rather slowly for a few minutes before I felt Voldemort's lubrication spell in my ass. I rolled my eyes while he situated himself behind me. He gently pushed my back down so that I can still ride Draco, but now I'm in the perfect position for him to fuck my ass. Draco slid me up and down his dick at a faster rate; I got his hint and rode him as fast as I could and bit my bottom lip when I felt Voldemort slowly enter my ass. Voldemort started off slow so that I could adjust to the feeling of him inside me and slowly snaked his hands up my body and up to my breasts. He caressed and squeezed them while gaining speed; Draco started to thrust up while I moaned and did my best to ride him.

After about five minutes of this, Voldemort and Draco agreed on something, but I, again, did not pay attention. They both stopped thrusting and slowly leaned back. Voldemort ended up on his back and thrusted quickly and deep into my ass while Draco pushed my legs up into ninety-degree angles again and started to fuck me. He accidentally rediscovered my G-spot when he moved to accommodate Voldemort's body. I screamed from the pleasure and thrusted my hips up and down and enjoyed the sounds of their grunts and the feeling of their dicks.

The pleasure seemed to last forever; it was absolutely fantastic. With some difficulty, especially Draco, they refrained from cuming until I orgasmed. My orgasms set off theirs; I was too pleasured to have any thoughts about being filled with their hot loads. I moaned as Draco slowly pulled out of me, and as Voldemort slowly did the same. I rolled off of Voldemort and lazily watched as Voldemort cleansed my body and Draco magically cleaned my sheets. Voldemort preformed a spell on him, and then on me, so that we'd be fresh out of the shower clean; Draco preformed the spell on himself. They tiredly situated themselves on my bed, and I weakly joined them under my covers. I glanced at my clock and silently chuckled when I saw the time: four AM. I snuggled into Draco's chest and sighed as he lovingly wrapped his left arm around me and slid his right arm under the pillow we're sharing. I didn't care when Voldemort wrapped his right arm around my hips, slid his left arm under his pillow, and nuzzled his face almost into my hair.

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**A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed that, I know I did. :P Hahahaha. Review please!**


	23. Afternoon Delight

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Afternoon Delight**

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I yawned and stretched my body against Draco's before slowly opening my eyes. Light flooded my room from my large windows and from the balcony. The balcony glass doors are open, so my room is pretty hot. Luckily, my sheets are my thin, silk, summer sheets, so I haven't soaked the bed with my sweat. My observations and thoughts were interrupted when I realized that Voldemort is comfortably snuggled behind me and winced; I didn't just enjoy last night, I welcomed it. I sighed and said to myself, "I am a whore."

"No, you're not." Draco squeezed me to him and kissed the top of my head.

I smiled into his chest, "I'm glad you think so."

After he yawned, he told me, "You should think the same."

"Why?" I couldn't help but to yawn, too.

Draco squeezed me again and then slowly rolled onto his back, forcing me to be on top of him. His sleepy, grey eyes looked up into my brown ones, "Because you're not a whore. You're just too pretty for your own good."

I giggled and he smirked. I kissed him lightly on the lips and then nuzzled my face against his neck. We quietly laid there for a long time before someone loudly knocked on my door. Voldemort rolled over, grabbed his wand off of the nightstand next to him, and sleepily unlocked the door. As soon as the click of my door reached the ears of the knocker, my door swung open and Drea said, "Hey Neema—Oh!"

I groaned and tried to roll off of Draco, but he held me tightly to him.

"Neema," Drea purred suggestively, "Had a… fun night?"

I rolled my eyes and decided to not fight the truth, "Extremely." I yawned, "What time is it?"

"Almost three."

"GAH!" I pushed myself off of Draco and landed on the floor with a loud thud. Drea didn't look at me since I'm naked, but she did say,

"Mom's taking us school shopping in half an hour. Get ready."

"Okay."

Drea quickly left and closed the door behind her.

I stood up and walked to my bathroom, "You comin' with us, Draco?"

"Sure," he yawned and sat up. He stretched his arm out in front of him and curved his back while breathing in deeply; he was still worn out from the night/morning. I took a quick shower, washed my hair, and brushed my teeth. I magically dried myself before coming out with my towel tightly wrapped around me. I quietly walked to my closet so that I can eavesdrop on Voldemort and Draco's conversation. I slipped into a secure bra and matching panty while Voldemort said,

"Hogwarts is starting soon?"

Draco nervously replied, "Yes, sir."

I thought of how awkward this must be for Draco. I've grown used to waking up in a bed next to Voldemort, but Draco is laying in my bed, totally naked except for my sheets, next to a naked, over relaxed Voldemort. I'm sure saying he's uncomfortable would be saying nothing. "This summer has passed quickly."

"I suppose so, sir."

"Has your summer been long?"

"It's….It has been stressful, sir."

"Stop using sir after your statements, it's getting annoying."

"Okay."

I slipped into a green summer dress while Voldemort sighed, "Are you already packed for Hogwarts, Draco?"

"A few house elves have packed all the clothing and supplies I need, except for the things I need to buy today."

"Obviously."

I sighed and rolled my eyes while walking out of my closet, holding a pair of golden colored gladiator sandals. I made eye contact with Draco and said, "Shall I meet you down stairs in twenty minutes?"

"Yeah," Draco sighed, got up, and quickly dressed himself. He apparated back to the Malfoy Manor; Voldemort sat up and leaned against my headboard. He watched me put on my shoes before saying,

"Have you packed anything yet?"

"No, school doesn't start for another week."

"Will you be packing once you come back from shopping?"

"I might," I shrugged, "I still have summer reading to complete."

"For what class?"

"Muggle Studies."

"What?" He shouted, got out of my bed, and put on a pair of near by boxers, "Why would you take that class?"

I sighed and crossed my arms against my chest, "Because it's an easy O."

Voldemort smirked and walked up to me. "You're a good liar."

"Thanks."

His smirk widened while he said, "Master your body language and it'll be a challenge to figure out if you're speaking the truth or not."

I laughed, "Oka—"

He randomly kissed me. He wrapped one arm around my waist and ran the other hand, his right hand, through my hair. I firmly pressed my hands against his chest, but I did kiss him back. After a long minute of his lips roughly rubbing mine, and his tongue exploring my mouth, he pulled away with a smirk. I lazily opened my eyes and drew in a deep breath while he laughed, "The mushrooms have completely left your body, and yet you're still willing."

I sighed and did my best to push away from him, but he his grip on me is strong. "I'll admit that I like the physical feelings, but I do **not** like you, so don't be flattered."

Voldemort laughed and slowly backed me into the wall behind me.

I rolled my eyes, "You're a big fan for walls, huh?"

He laughed and kissed me again. I sighed as he started to kiss the right side of my neck; he gave me two hickeys on both sides of my neck. He softly kissed my lips before purring into my left ear, "Just making sure Draco knows you're mine."

I gulped, "I won't belong to you forever."

Voldemort laughed, "Go ahead, marry Draco, he still answers to me."

I angrily bit the inside of my bottom lip, "You said that once I'm married—"

Voldemort laughed, "I know what I said."

I don't think I've ever looked so sad or so pathetic in my life, "You lied to me."

He sighed and walked away from me. He smirked while putting on a fresh pair of black slacks, "No, I did not."

"So, you're going to leave me be once I'm married?"

He shrugged and slid a wife beater on, "I may take an occasional go at you, but I'll leave you alone."

I held my left elbow with my right hand, "Why?"

I didn't have to clarify anything for him, "A magical marriage is a very sacred thing, I cannot break that."

"Then how can you 'take an occasional go'?"

He laughed evilly and faced me while buttoning up his green shirt, "Because you're willing." He smirked at me while walking out of the room, "_I'll admit that I like the physical feelings..._"

I gulped and walked down stairs after putting on a golden colored hair band; I don't want my hair blowing into my face and whipping my eyes. I took my time walking down stairs; as you can imagine, I'm rather sore. I quietly walked by the living room since Voldemort was in there, mindlessly rubbing the top of Nagini's head. Have I ever told you how much I hate snakes? Especially _that_ damn snake. It's creepy, it's ugly, it's evil, and it always listens to Voldemort. I'm sure that if she could turn into a human, he'd love her, as much as he can love. So I guess he'd kind of, sort of like her. It's too bad that she can't turn into a human, because then he could be with her and leave me alone.

Draco was speaking with my mom and Gaston as I quietly crept in. Draco asked my mom, "Do you know when Nasier will have a free moment? I need to speak with him before I leave for Hogwarts."

I walked over to Drea; she's half way in the fridge, hopelessly searching for yogurt. I held the door open for her and asked, "Why do you need to talk to my dad?"

Draco tensed for a moment, but quickly relaxed. "Business."

I sighed, "Why is there only one man in my life without that damn curse?"

Gaston beamed, "Because none of the others are Ravenclaws!"

I laughed with Gaston while my mom said, "Gaston, you obviously don't understand the appeal of a bad boy."

I laughed harder while Draco blushed. "I'm not gay, mom."

A muffled shout came from inside the fridge, "You sure, bro?"

Gaston snapped, "Oh ha, ha, ha!"

I sighed and watched Drea slowly and cautiously slide out of the fridge with empty hands. "I can't find any yogurt, so are you guys ready to go?"

"Yeah," Draco and I said in unison. We made eye contact and lightly blushed. My mother called us over so that Drea and I can side-apparate with her; Drea knows how, but hates to, and I'm yet to learn. I held my breath and tightly shut my eyes while we apparated to Diagon Alley. I let go too soon and slammed into Draco. He laughed and firmly put his right foot behind him just in time to stabilize our movements. "Are you ever going to be able to apparate like a normal witch?"

I sighed, "Hopefully."

Draco started to walk down the street, but he grabbed my right and with his left, forcing me to walk with him. The first things we bought were our new robes; Draco has grown, so he needs new robes, but I just want a different style of robe. He stared at me while I was being fitted, but he didn't say anything. The only time he spoke was when he had to talk about the size, style, and price of his robes, and when he shouted at boys who were looking at me. I told him to stop, but then he said,

"What? Why? They shouldn't be looking—"

"Calm down, dad," I laughed and Draco rolled his eyes, "we're behind a window, for Pete's sake. People always look in windows."

Draco sighed, "Whatever you say."

I smirked, "I'm glad you've got that down."

Draco laughed, but he didn't actually say anything. Once we bought our robes, we magically sent them to our homes and bought the books we'll need this year. We also bought ink since we used up all our ink last school year, and we bought extra parchment, just in case we run out, lose some, or are near a moocher. We bought a couple of fancy quills, a couple regular quills, and couple of just awesome quills. Draco has rather messing handwriting, so he bought a few quills with a charm on them so that all his writing will be neat and legible. We bought all the needed things for school, and we were going to go back home, but then my mom saw a shoe store.

Draco said as politely as possible, "Don't you three already own a hundred shoes each?"

My mom smirked, "At the very least."

"Honestly, Draco," Drea looked over her right shoulder while walking past him, "What's the point of great wealth if you don't splurge every once and a while?"

"Yeah," I half smirked, half smiled and gently slid my right hand underneath his left one; he immediately held my hand. "What's the point of great wealth if you don't ever get to spend some?"

Draco laughed and rolled his eyes, "You obviously have more money than you know what to do with."

"No," I acted highly offended, "We know what to do with it, and that's shopping. It's _you_ who doesn't know what to do with your money."

"My father invests his money wisely."

"So does my father, the other half goes to bills, and what's left over goes to things like this."

We slowly walked behind my mother and sister, but stopped for a few minutes so that Draco could speak with some man his father's age, probably another Death Eater. I stayed on the sidewalk while Draco walked the three or so feet over to him. I patiently waited for him and spent my few moments of alone time scanning my surroundings. I saw the Weasley's, Hermione, and Harry walking out of a cheap – in price, not quality – robe store. Ginny and I are pretty friendly, and Hermione has helped me in Arithmancy. I couldn't help her in any academic subject, I'm smart, but Hermione is pretty much a genius. So, to return her favor, I did her hair and make-up for the Yule Ball. I taught her hairclip tricks that my sister taught me, I showed her how to do a quick and small cat eye, and how to line your bottom lid without stabbing yourself in the eye.

I made eye contact with Hermione and waved. She smiled and waved back to me; Ginny saw Hermione waving, so she looked over at me, smiled, and waved, too. Almost as soon as I waved back, Draco came up from behind me and spat just loud enough for them to hear, "Why are you waving to that mud-blood and blood traitor?"

I turned and slapped him, "Don't you dare speak like that around me."

Ginny and Hermione laughed at the sight of me slapping Draco, but stopped as soon as he kissed me. Ron and Harry looked over since Ginny and Hermione were no longer with the group. I parted from Draco and said, "I am a lady, please treat me as such." I wiggled out of his arms, waved goodbye to Ginny and Hermione, and ignored Harry and Ron's confused, angry stares; since when did a fellow Gryffindor, especially a member of Dumbledore's Order, affiliate with a Slytherin, especially a Malfoy? Plus, Draco and I were always at each other's throats, so this must be a huge shocker.

I'd love to walk up to Harry and say, "Hey! You remember that asshat who fucked up your whole life before you could walk? Yeah, well he's raping me, which is why Draco and I are close now, funny, right? Anyway, you think I could take you home for a few minutes so you can just kill him now? I'm sure that'd put an end to both of our stresses." Doubt he'd go for that, he'd probably think I'm making fun of him. I guess I'll just stick with my apologetic letter.

Draco chuckled, put his right hand in his front right pocket, and held my right hand with his left. "I'm sorry, Neemie."

I sighed, "It's okay."

We walked to the shoe shop in silence, but we weren't angry at each other. Draco didn't want to just follow me around the store, so he bought himself a new pair of black dress shoes, and two pairs of regular, hanging out shoes; one pair in white, one in black. I don't know what my mother or Drea bought, but I bought a dozen pairs of flats. I bought a pair of silver cheetah print flats, a pair of zebra print, a pair of giraffe print, and a pair of dragon print; the rest of my flats are different animal prints, too. I bought a _killer_ pair of four inch, blue stilettos, a pair of dark green, pretty classly heels, and a pair of regular black pumps, for those days at Hogwarts that I don't want to climb up and down seven stories in heels, but I don't want to be short. I also bought several pairs of heels that now that I've seen them, I cannot live without them: one pair looks exactly like a waterfall, the heel is the waterfall, and the shoe itself is designed to look like a river. The second pair looks like a bunch of multicolored ribbons, and the third pair resembles an ancient Greek building; the heel looks like a pillar, and the shoe is the same color as the heel, which is a rather light marble.

Draco magically sent all my shoes into my closet, smirked, and then squeezed my left hand in his right. My mother walked up to us with a large smirk, Drea had the same facial expression. My mother eyed Draco and I before saying, "Drea told me you had a… a _long _night."

"Oh!" I shouted and shuddered, "Mom! I don't wanna talk about it with _you_!"

Draco smirked proudly.

My mom pretended to be hurt, "I know you were hoodwinked into it, but I must say, I'm rather jealous."

I shuddered again, "Oh sweet Jesus, why?"

"I didn't have my first threesome until I was twenty-two, it took years of begging your father—"

"OH GOD!" Drea and I shouted in unison. Drea shuddered while I said, "I don't want to know about you and dad! That's _soooo_ gross, mom!"

My mom laughed.

Draco smirked down at me, "I'd like to know."

I playfully shoved Draco, "If you're hitting on my mom, I'm going to punch you. If you're just trying to make this awkward for me, I'm going to punch you."

Draco smirked and then pouted, "That's a lose-lose."

I laughed and walked closer to him. He let go of my hand and wrapped his right arm loosely and lovingly around me. "Psh. You'd like it."

Draco raised and lowered his eyebrows suggestively.

"_Eww_," I whispered, "not when my mom can hear us."

Draco laughed again, "You need to live a little."

I angrily looked up at him, "Because I don't wave my lovers underwear at my father, or talk about sex with or around my mom, I'm not living?"

"Exactly."

"You white people are weird."

Draco laughed at me, "You're white, too."

"No, I'm not." I waved my freehand up at him, "See? I'm light brown, olive, really. Besides," I sighed, "I'm Greek, Italian, Armenian, and Egyptian. Those are not white nationalities, are they?"

"I suppose not."

"_You_ on the other hand, you are British. _You_ are white."

Draco half smirked, half smiled, "You say it like it's a bad thing."

I laughed and looked up at him. I slowed down, forcing Draco to slow down, too. I waited until we were about seven feet behind my mom and sister before saying, "It's not, I rather enjoy the company of white people, you folks just get weird, that's all."

Draco laughed and rolled his eyes. "If I said that about you, I'd be called racist."

I smirked, "Good thing you're not saying it about me, then."

Draco just rolled his eyes at me.

"To tell you the truth, I find that the majority of white boys I've come into contact are small."

He looked down at me rather worriedly.

I smirked, "Thank you for not being a part of the majority."

Draco seemed relieved, "That's not a nice assumption, you know, to say that us Brits by blood are small."

I shrugged, "I'm not saying that it's true for _every_ white boy, I'm just saying that the several white penises I've seen are small, except yours and Asshat."

Draco laughed, "Asshat?"

"Yes, Asshat."

Draco tilted his head from left to right a few times, "I like that, fits him well."

I laughed and blew him a kiss since I'm too short to just kiss him. He smiled and held me tighter.

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**A/N: Please review!**

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**A/N: Special thanks to scara1, lolie lolszx, and Cass for their constant reviews! I appreciate it more than I can say, err, write. :D**


	24. Emo Party

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Emo Party**

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As much as I didn't want to do it, I finished up my summer reading. The sixth years that are signed up for Muggle Studies are going to focus on American History and Culture, so I had to read three books. The first two I read at the beginning of the summer; they were boring, and they were big, but I read them. For the rest of my academically inclined parts of the summer, I've stared down my American History Book, I've even tried to will its information into my mind instead of reading it, but that didn't work. Voldemort continuously interrupted me when I was trying to read it on the couch in the living room, and one day I snapped at him, "If you don't shut the fuck up, I will flunk this class. There is a test on the literature the first day of class, and I need to be able to actually read this for learning. So shut up."

He stared at me with an angry awe, but he did leave me alone. Nagini slid into the room and made herself comfortable at my feet. I don't like her any better than before, but I've grown used to her. She doesn't try to injure me in any way, so she must be friendly. As friendly as Voldemort's evil horcrux snake can be, anyway. She watched me as I highlighted key concepts, bookmarked important pages, and took notes on the things I didn't quite understand so that I could bring it up with a muggle born once I'm back at Hogwarts before class starts and I have to take the test. My father sat down next to me just as I was finishing up the last few pages of the necessary reading from the textbook. He sighed and did that one-armed father hug, "You all ready for school?"

"Yeah," I relaxed into him, "I still have to pack though."

"You should do that today."

"I plan to."

"That's good."

We were silent for a while. My dad works long hours at his job, and since he's so high up now, he has a lot of things to do. He's the head of marketing, and an assistant head of creations; he works at a large industry that deals with all sorts of potions. He took a week off to make sure that Drea and I are all ready, and to spend some time with me before I'm off to Hogwarts. Voldemort was wasting all his time on Death Eater nonsense, but I threw a huge fit over it. Every time Voldemort tried to approach me in even the smallest sexual way, I denied him by slapping him and scratching him. I'd turn into a cat and claw at him, too. He quickly grew sick of this, so he let my dad relax this week, forcing me to stop denying him.

My dad sighed, "I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too."

My dad absent-mindedly ruffled my hair, "Do you want to go out to dinner tonight? I haven't spent as much time with you as I wanted to."

"Sure, that sounds good."

We were quiet for a while, allowing Draco to walk in and say, "Nasier, may I have a word with you?"

My dad nodded and slowly got up. I stood up, too, and said, "I'm going to go pack." Voldemort walked by the doorless entrance of the living room, so I smirked and mumbled to my dad, "I'm going to go torture Asshat with tedious packing."

My dad laughed, "Okay."

I quietly followed Voldemort into the small library and watched him approach the section of books my father has on Dark Magic and Dark Wizards of the past. Nagini quickly slithered in between my feet and over to Voldemort. She rubbed her head against his right calf and hissed something. He didn't turn, but I knew he was smirking, "Hello, Neema."

I sighed and sat down on the top of a small desk to my left. "Good afternoon, Volders."

He chuckled under his breath, "Have you finished your summer reading?"

"Yes."

He lightly ran his right index and middle fingers back and forth against the top of Nagini's head while she hissed something to him. "Nagini says you even took notes."

I shrugged, "What can I say? I'm not a Ravenclaw, but I'm pretty damn close."

Voldemort laughed and looked at me over his left shoulder, "What did you come in here for, Neemers?"

I pressed my lips tightly together, squished them to the right side, and tilted my head to the left, "I hate that nickname."

"That's unfortunate."

I sighed loudly and slid off of the table. I walked up to him, stood on my tiptoes, and rested my chin on his right shoulder. I whispered into his ear, "I have some bedroom business I need to take care of." I smirked and took my wand out of my front pants pocket. I gently pressed the tip of my wand against the side of his neck and silently preformed a ribbon spell. Gold and scarlet colored, ribbon like streams of light loosely wrapped around his neck, torso, and then his legs. They curved and looped while I walked away, creating a fun little path to follow me. He slid his hands into his front pockets, smirked, and walked five feet behind me, staring at the swinging of my hips and the rather seductive, ribbon like streams of light. I walked up the stairs two at a time while Voldemort took them one at a time, but he walked up them quickly. When we got to my room, I put my wand down on the nearest piece of furniture and turned to face Voldemort. He was slowly closing the door, so I smirked and said, "Keep it open."

A familiar flash of excitement glazed over his eyes, "Open?"

"Open."

He smirked and walked over to me. He didn't stop walking, so I was forced to walk backwards until I ran into one of my dressers. His smirk widened as I slid onto the dresser and gulped. He put his hands barely two inches away from my outer thighs and leaned closer to me. My breathing quickened while he made the space between our faces _maybe_ three inches. "Has one night of fun turned you into a freak?"

I gulped, "No."

He laughed, "Then why do you want to keep the door open?"

I mumbled, "It's easier to pack with the door open; more air, more light."

Voldemort's smirk melted off of his face while he sighed. "Now is when you want to pack?"

I nodded my head up and down, "Would you like to help me?"

He gave me the "you're _so_ stupid" look and sighed.

I tilted my head and almost kissed him, but I said, "_Please_, my Lord?"

He smirked and tenderly pressed his lips against mine; he didn't kiss me, he just pressed his lips against mine. He breathed out through his nose, causing my loose curls to brush against my neck, tickling it. The feeling of the tickle made me softly giggle; he smirked and ever so gently nipped at my bottom lip. He nibbled on my top lip, too, and then kissed the tip of my nose. He breathed onto my neck before saying barely above a whisper, "Okay, I'll help."

I smiled and pressed my hands against his chest. I slowly pushed him away from me and then slid off of the dresser. He watched as I wiggled out from between him and the dresser and opened my trunk. On the outside, the trunk looks like a regular Hogwarts trunk, but once it's opened, it's like a large walk-in closet. I sighed and put my hands behind my head before turning ninety degrees to look at Voldemort. "Shall we pack my real clothes first?"

He leaned against my dresser, "Real clothes?"

"My non-uniform clothing."

"Oh," he thought it over for a moment, "okay." He walked into my closet and asked me, "What are you going to bring with you?"

I walked in and looked around, "Some summer stuff since it doesn't get cold until the beginning of October…"

"What else?"

"A months worth of fall clothing; I'm coming back for Halloween, right? I can change my wardrobe once I'm back."

Voldemort walked over to my underwear and started to play with them; he frowned at my granny panties. "Have you had your period yet?"

"Yes," I laughed, "I started the day after our adventure."

He smirked but then frowned, "And you've been sleeping next to me while bleeding?"

I glared at him, "It's my bed! I'll have my period without pants or pads!"

He cringed, "That would be disgusting."

"Yes it would!" I shouted, "But it's my bed! I'll do what I want!"

He rolled his eyes and laughed at me while I carefully took down my favorite summer shirts. He waved his wand and watched while my clothes floated out of my hands, folded themselves, and put themselves away in my trunk.

I sighed, "Thanks."

He smirked, "You're welcome, Neemie."

"Oh," I faked a loving sigh, "Voldie."

He laughed and sat down on the top of a large dresser. Every time I took down clothing, he would wave his wand so that they'd take care of themselves. I ended up taking down plenty of summer dresses, leggings for the days that I don't feel like wearing pants, and the majority of my favorite summer jeans, the jeans that are more for style than for warmth or comfort. I also packed plenty of sweater dresses, stylish jeans, but the kind made for winter, some jackets, some sweaters, and quite a few hoodies; I also packed a black coat incase I have to go outside while it's raining. After all my real clothing was picked and packed, I packed all of my Hogwarts uniform skirts, shirts, ties, and robes. Then, I packed the shoes that I'd need for Hogwarts. I packed my new shoes, I packed my favorite shoes, and then I packed some basic shoes that I might need later on. Voldemort put in all my granny panties, half of my thongs, and boy shorts. I would have taken them all, but Voldemort wanted to keep some. Totally gross, right? Not that it's surprising, but still.

I sat down on the middle of the foot of my bed when we were done packing. Voldemort sat down next to me and then laid down. He stared up at me, but he didn't say anything. After a few minutes of silence, he asked me, "Are you going to dinner tonight with your father?"

I didn't look at him, "Yes."

"Who else is going?"

"Just he and me."

Voldemort smirked and started to say something, but I cut him off.

"**Just** he and me."

He laughed, "Quite fixed on that thought, ehy?"

I slowly turned my head over my shoulder and said, "I'd glare, but you know, wrinkles."

He laughed and looked up at me with slightly dazed eyes.

"I'm going with just my father, I haven't had a moment of real bonding time since you came into my life."

He smirked, "I feel rather accomplished; you two were close."

I stood up, "And we still are."

He just smirked while I slammed my bathroom door behind me. I took a quick rinse off shower and brushed my teeth. I put my hair up in a loose, but still pretty bun; a few of my curls fell freely around my face, I liked the way they looked, so I didn't put them back. I dried off and walked out of my bathroom with my towel tightly wrapped around me; I ignored Voldemort as he stared at me. I didn't bother with any make-up; I went straight into my closet and looked around at my clothes. Dad didn't say where he wanted to go, so I figured I'd play it safe and wear a nice, but casual, summer dress. The V-neck neck barely goes a third of the way down, but the material is light and thin, so I wasn't going to be over heated. The dress is sleeveless and has straps about two fingers wide. It's an orange dress, not an ugly orange though; it compliments my olive skin very nicely.

Voldemort sucked in a breath when I walked out of my closet. I slipped into a pair of white flats and then looked over at Voldemort, "Is there a spell that'll keep my white shoes white?"

"Yes."

"Do you know it?"

"Yes."

"Will you cast it on these shoes?"

"Come here."

I drew a deep breath into my mouth and exhaled out my nose; he locked gazes with me while I walked over to him. He pointed his wand at my shoes and wiggled his wrist back and forth a few times, but he didn't say anything. He flashed me a small smile, "There. White and clean forever."

I smiled, "Thanks."

He drew in a deep breath and relaxed into my bed. He turned his head to the left and said, "This bed won't be the same without you."

I rolled my eyes while walking to my door. With an obviously fake tone of affection, I replied, "_Aww_. Voldie, I'll miss you, too."

He laughed while I walked out.

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My dad and I ended up taking the quickest drive possible to the new restaurant downtown; we were starving. After we were seated, the waiter asked if we were siblings or father/daughter. I've been told that I look like I'm twenty, and even though my father is in his mid forties, he is a very healthy man, and he exercises until his muscles fail about four, sometimes five times a week; he is usually mistaken for a man in his early thirties. My dad never ceases to be flattered when people think that he's my older brother, so he told the waiter rather proudly that he's forty three, that I'm sixteen, and that he's my father.

"You're kidding?" The waiter said with genuine shock.

My father beamed, "I'm not joking around."

The waiter breathed out loudly and then asked us, "What would you two like to drink?"

I looked up at the waiter, "I'd like a large glass of water, please."

He smiled and then looked back at my father, "And you, sir? What would you like?"

My father thought for a few seconds, "I'd like the same."

"Okay," the waiter smiled and gently put a menu down in front of me, and then one in front of my father, "I'll be right back with your waters."

"Thank you," my father told the waiter while he walked away. We sat at the table in total silence for about two minutes before my father sighed, "I'm sorry, Neema."

The waiter quietly placed our waters on the table, saw that we were still looking at the menus, and walked away. "For what?"

My father leaned closer to the table, "For not being able to protect you. That is the key role as a father, and I've failed you."

I slowly put my menu down and leaned closer to my father, "Dad, what could you have done?"

My dad gulped and lightly shrugged, "I don't know, Neemers."

"Dad," I said barely above a whisper, "you did all you could, you stayed strong for me. That's what I needed. It'd be fruitless to kill him, Asshat would just come back."

My dad laughed, "Asshat?"

"Yes, Asshat."

My dad smiled widely, "I like that name."

I smiled back, "So does Draco."

My dad smiled even wider, "I didn't like that boy for a few years, but I like him now."

I leaned back into my chair and picked up my menu, "That's good. I like him, too."

My dad started to speak with his "I'm the father, and I'm being serious right now" voice and told me, "Your mother tells me that he's your boyfriend now."

I chuckled nervously, "He is."

"For how long?"

"About a month, I think."

My dad sighed, "Well, I approve."

I laughed, "Thank you."

He winked jokingly at me, "I even told him that I approve of him."

I half smiled, half smirked, "I'm sure that means a lot to him."

My dad half smiled, half smirked, too, "Oh it does."

We chuckled and focused back on our menus. The waiter came back to our table just in time; my father ordered a T-bone steak with steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes, I ordered grilled salmon topped with a blueberry sauce, steamed vegetables, and a small side of brown rice. The waiter wrote it down, smiled politely, and then asked, "Would you two like anything else? Perhaps an appetizer?"

"You know what?" I looked at my dad, "I haven't had calamari in ages."

"Nor have I," my father looked at the waiter, "Well have some calamari."

"Good choice," the waiter said and wrote it down underneath our dinner orders. Once he walked away my father looked at me and pulled out my Hogwarts Express ticket out of his left breast pocket.

"Here," he handed them to me, "I'll lose it if I hang on to it any longer."

I laughed and gently slid the thin envelope with my ticket out of his hand, "Give me a ticket to an aeroplane, ain't got time to take a fast train."

My dad laughed and said the next line, "Lonely days are gone, I'ma goin' home."

I smiled widely, "My baby just wrote me a letter."

"I don't care how much money I gotta spend,"

I waved my ticket at him and said, "Got to get back to my baby again." I chuckled and put the envelope on my lap. We sighed with contentment while I scooted closer to the table. "I'm going to be safe and happy at Hogwarts."

My dad laughed, "For the majority of the year."

I tilted my head to the right and said barely above a whisper, "Will you please tell me what the plan is? You know, for all _that_ stuff?"

My dad sighed, put his elbows on the table and put his hands in the crease in arm the bending of his elbow made. He leaned closer to me and quietly said, "You can't tell anyone. He'll kill us both."

I nodded to show that I understand and that I'll keep everything he says a secret.

"Do I have your word that you won't interfere or tell anyone?"

"Yes, I won't interfere."

He just looked at me.

"Whatever you tell me about this, I'll take to my gave."

My father smiled weakly, "You know how Lucius dropped the prophecy?"

"Yeah," I scoffed, "I was there."

My dad quietly groaned, "_Why?_ Why Neema? Why did you go to that?"

I suck my head into my shoulders, opened my mouth a little bit, and looked at him with disbelief, "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious."

I laughed, "Are you disappointed with me because I'm a good and brave person?"

My dad tilted his head to the left, pressed his lips together and squished them to the right, like how I do, and raised his left eyebrow. "Of course not. You know that I'm proud of you for that; it brings my heart great joy that you're a Gryffindor."

"Excuse me," Our waiter said and cautiously placed a large, slightly curved, blue plate practically oozing calamari on the middle of the table. The waiter smiled at us while putting down a small, silver cup like bowl filled with tartar sauce, and another with vinegar, "Would you like anything else?"

My father smiled at the food, "No, this looks fantastic, thank you."

The waiter smiled, put down two small plates, and walked away.

My father slid some calamari onto his plate while asking me, "Are you like your brother and hate when I double dip or don't put the sauce on my plate?"

I laughed, "No, I do that stuff, too."

"Oh thank God," my father sighed, "I'd have to put a silencing charm on you if you bitched like he does."

I laughed and covered my plate with calamari. My father and I carried on our conversation in between mouthfuls. My father looked into my eyes and said, "I was just scared that you would get hurt there. I doubt that Bellatrix would have hesitated to kill you if Sirius didn't show up, or if Harry wasn't in need of distraction."

I frowned, "I told Harry not to go, I told him that Voldemort is probably just messin' with him, tryin' to lure him there. But did he listen to me? _Nooooo. _I'm almost always right, and yet no one ever listens to me."

My dad smiled and fought back a laugh, "I know, that's why you're the youngest. We need someone to steal ideas from."

I sighed at his comment and asked, "Why does Bellatrix hate me so much? I'm nothing short of polite to her."

My father shrugged and ate a forkful of calamari before answering me, "She thinks you're a disgrace to purebloods, a blood traitor, I suppose."

I smiled, "That's sweet."

My dad laughed and almost choked. He chugged a third of his water in order to push the stuck piece of calamari off of his throat. He laughed once he could breathe again and said, "Bellatrix is crazy."

I nodded and swallowed my small mouthful, "You do know that Bellatrix is Latin for, 'Who is this insane freak? Get'em out of here!'"

My dad laughed and slid more calamari onto his plate, "I did not know that, however," he smirked, "I am not flabbergasted."

I laughed loudly, "I **love** that word!"

"Flabbergasted?"

"Yes!"

My dad smiled and ate more calamari. I slide more onto my plate before saying, "Anyway, what's up with the Warts of Hog?"

My dad chuckled and then quietly told me, "Voldemort is punishing Lucius for his failure at the Ministry of Magic."

I whispered, "How?"

My father sighed with sadness and whispered, "Draco's going to have to figure out a way to sneak a group of Death Eaters into Hogwarts," my father gulped, "and then he has to kill Dumbledore."

My bottom jaw fell to the floor and my eyes widened.

My dad drew in a deep breath, "If he doesn't, Voldemort will kill him."

I refrained from crying, but I couldn't help the crack in my soft voice, "Dra—Draco can't die. Not yet, not so young."

"He will if he fails."

I drew in a deep breath and locked gazes with my father, "I won't let that happen."

We stayed silent while our waiter gave us our food and silently walked away. "Neema," my father sighed, "please, _please_ don't involve yourself with this."

I used the side of my fork to open up my salmon so it'll cool down faster. I looked up into my dad's eyes and told him barely above a whisper, "I'm not going to assist him, but I am going to support him. He's supported and loved me through my derailment, I have to support and love him through his."

My father sighed, "You're too stubborn and you're ridiculously loyal."

"Because you're not," I laughed and stared at where his Dark Mark is underneath his long-sleeved, button down shirt.

My father rolled his eyes.

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**A/N: Please review!**

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**A/N: You can probably tell that I don't want to do my summer reading. Hahaha. Anyway, I'm going back to school in three weeks, and I'll be busy for about half of the coming week. I'm going to knock out my summer reading during my travels so that when I'm back, I can continue writing for you guys. However, I have six classes for school, and four of them are the advanced placement/college level courses, so my updating will be severely crippled, but I will still update. I love writing, and I'm very happy with this fanfic and my other, Holiday From Real, so if you're a fan of either, or of both, just know that I won't abandon them, I'll just have to update less often.**

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**A/N: loli lolszx (I know there's a ".", but FanFiction won't let me use it.): It's a pretty catchy song, and really rather funny. "We only have twenty four hours to live – I am fearful for my life…" haaaaahahahaha. I'm curious though, how have I made you love dear, sweet Volders?**

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**A/N: IrishStorm: When I woke up this morning I opened up my email to see if I received any reviews, and I did. Not only that, but I saw that you added my story to your favorites and to your story alert; I'm extremely flattered and appreciative. **

**Thank you for the kind review; I put a lot of time and thought into this story, and it's nice to see that people find my work enjoyable and original.**

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**A/N: Cass: Pedicures ****≠ insaneartist**

**It amazes me that you read my chapters while on the go. I don't do anything fanfic related outside of my typing, and I don't tell anyone that I write fanfiction; my friends would think I'm **_**totally **_**dweeby, and I probably wouldn't be popular anymore. Instead of being labeled funny, I'd probably be labeled lame. * long sigh * Whateva, whateva, I do what I want. Hahaha. (South Park is awesome.)**

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**A/N: scara1: Thanks for all the reviews! I love that you love my story, hahaha. Enjoy the quick updates while I can still give them! * tear* I think the story would be too dark without some comedic relief; the poor girl is stuck with the most evil wizard of all time, we need some laughs every once and a while.**


	25. Check Yes Juliet

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Check Yes Juliet**

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My dad and I spent as much time as possible out of the house. After we ate our dinners, we decided to go to the ice cream shop on the farthest side of town. He ate a small scoop of Rocky Road while I ate a small scoop of Cake Batter flavored ice cream. We ended up driving around after that, but his eyes quickly grew tired, so he pulled over and let me drive him around in the Maybach; my eyes adjust to the dark much better and faster than his. We talked about Voldemort's plan for the Malfoy Family and the little things that I could do for Draco. We got back home around eleven thirty, so we did our best to be quiet. Dad told me that he put a silencing charm on the garage so that the noise of the garage door wouldn't sound throughout the house. If you're in the garage or outside, you'll be able to hear the door, but if you're inside the house, even at the door between the kitchen and the garage, you won't be able to hear it.

Dad walked me to my room, hugged me goodnight, and opened the door to my room for me; he cringed when he saw Voldemort peacefully sleeping on the left side of my bed with Nagini at his feet. He gulped while I walked in, and quietly closed the door behind me before walking to the room he shares with my mother. I tiptoed into my closet, left my clothes in my hamper, grabbed some PJs, and then took a shower in my bathroom. I stood under the hot water for ten minutes before starting to wash myself. I took my time washing my hair and I slowly lathered and rinsed my body. Once I was done with washing myself, I closed my eyes, turned one hundred and eighty degrees, and tilted my head up so that the water could wash away my tears.

My father told me that Voldemort wants Dumbledore dead for several reasons: because he was a bit of a nuisance, he had a very powerful wand, and for other reasons my dad didn't quite understand, mostly because Voldemort didn't verbalize them, but there's always something more with Voldemort. My dad didn't tell me about the wand past that Voldemort wants it, but that could only mean that Dumbledore has the Elder Wand. My mother used to read my siblings and I short stories about the Elder Wand and the other two Hallows; she told us that most of the stories she read us were fictitious, but that the Hallows are real. If Draco kills Dumbledore then he'll become the master of the wand, and I know that Voldemort won't just engage in a quick duel with Draco to become the master of the wand, he'll just kill him.

I turned off the water, gulped, and magically dried off. I brushed my teeth, loosely put my hair up so that I won't damage my curls, and then slipped into my PJs. I breathed in deeply a few times, unlocked the door, turned off the light in my bathroom, and walked out. I wasn't surprised to see Voldemort awake; he was sleepy, but he was still awake. The light on the nightstand closest to my side of the bed was on at it's lowest level; I sighed, put my wand down next to it, and then drew the covers on my side back. I looked into his sleepy, rather glazed eyes, but I didn't say anything. He half smirked, half smiled, "Why so quiet, Kitten?"

I sighed and softly blinked, "I have a terrible feeling that you're going to kill Draco in order to punish Lucius."

"That's quite the queer idea."

I climbed into my bed, but I sat down facing him instead of lying down next to him. "What do I have to do so that you won't kill Draco?" He stayed silent for minute, allowing me to roll everything over in my mind. I suppose I could defeat Draco in a duel, making myself the master of the Elder Wand; I doubt Voldemort would kill me. I'm his Gryffindor Kitten; he's grown quite fond of me. He'd probably just duel me and then do his best to humiliate me in twisted ways. I'd rather have that happen than see Draco die; I know we're only sixteen, but I'm more than positive about being soul mates. Call me ridiculous for thinking this, or call me fortunate for finding him so soon, whichever floats your boat.

Voldemort sighed but didn't look away from me, "You really like him?"

I gulped, "I'm in love with him."

He sighed again, "You think _he_ loves _you_?"

"I know it."

Voldemort laughed, "No, you don't know that."

"I know better than you."

He was instantly angry; his facial expression went from being content to being infuriated. He quietly barked out, "Are you off of your period?"

I mumbled out, "I got off this morning." before I stopped breathing.

"Lay down," he snarled while slowly sitting up.

My heartbeat went from being almost making my ears bleed to nonexistent. I unfolded my legs, brought them into my chest, turned ninety degrees, and laid back, placing the back of my head against my soft pillow. I slowly retracted my legs so that I'd be lying down while he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. He put his left hand a few inches away from my right elbow, situated himself five or so inches above me and planted his right hand down in the same fashion as his right. He didn't glare at me, but his expression wasn't friendly. I bit the inside of my bottom lip with worry while he stared down at me with his cruel, cold, midnight blue eyes. I mumbled out,

"Your eyes make me nervous…they almost horrify me, really."

With a quiet, but still exceptionally commanding voice, he asked me, "Why?"

I shivered at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his surprisingly minty breath against my face, "Because they bring me comfort."

He smirked and kissed the left corner of my mouth, mostly my cheek, and then the right corner. He stared back down into my dark, chestnut eyes. "How does that horrify you?"

I gulped and said in such a soft voice that he almost didn't hear me, "Because you're a wicked, malicious, monster of a man."

He laughed loudly, but only once. "I'm flattered, Neemie, really."

I gulped again, "You've been torturing my family, you're probably going to kill off the young man that I love, and you're raping my body and my mind. Nothing about you should bring me any sort of comfort."

His smirk widened; he gently pressed his lips directly onto mine, but he didn't close his eyes. He slowly kissed me while taunting me with his dark eyes. He pulled away after thirty seconds and whispered into my right ear, "I don't give a damn about what does or doesn't give you comfort."

I couldn't help but to laugh, "What a surprise!"

He bit my neck, earning a small, but surprised yelp from me. He didn't bite down on me, it was barely a nip, but it was on a weak spot. Plus he's cold and I'm warm, so the temperature difference was quite the shock, too. He smirked against the soft but firm flesh of my skin and whispered, "I want you, right now."

"But," I gulped, "I have to go to Hogwarts tomorrow."

"I know," his warm breath absorbed into my skin, "After tomorrow morning I won't see you again until October thirty first." He kissed my neck, smiling wickedly at my shiver, "That's sixty days without **my** dear," he gently kissed my neck, "sweet," he let out a soft groan and kissed me again, "Neema." He looked back into my eyes with a fake sadness, "Imagine sixty days without me."

I smiled widely.

He rolled his eyes, "I doubt we'll be able to go at it until _after_ the Death Eater event, so really, I won't _have_ you again for _sixty one_," he kissed the other side of my neck, "long," he kissed me again, "painful days."

I laughed and rolled my eyes, "I'm sure you could find someone else."

"Oh I could," he smirked and kissed me again, but he was disappointed that I stopped shivering, so he looked back into my eyes. "Make no mistake, Neema, don't bother convincing yourself otherwise, I could have any woman I want."

I just stared up into his eyes.

"But," he sighed, "I don't have the time or the desire to get someone new. Besides," he smiled and then whispered, "I'm fond of you, Neemie." He kissed my forehead, "Your personality, your attitude, your reactions, your curiosity, your intelligence, your desire to learn…" he smirked and sighed again, "The fact that you keep your body in such good condition, in such fantastic shape…" He kissed me on the lips again. He smiled with an odd happy in his eyes before whispering, "the feeling of your soft skin, your smell, your taste…"

I gulped.

"Keep a secret, Neemers?"

"Sure," I gave him a look of obvious disdain, "_Volders_."

He chuckled and then whispered into my left ear, "This is the closest to love I've ever felt. I suppose it's extreme attraction more than any sort of affection."

I probably should have been disgusted or scared, probably both, but I laughed. "Rape?" I laughed, "Raping the sixteen year old daughter of one of your best Death Eaters? _That's _what you call close to love?"

He glared down at me, "Are you mocking me?"

"I'm just confused," I stared up at him with a small smile of disbelief, "you confuse me, you scare me, you make me want to pee my pants."

He smirked, "Good."

"I also think that I may have small case of Stockholm's for you, but that doesn't change my basic feelings for you."

My darling, sweet lover, Voldie, looked curious.

I softly sighed, "I've already told you once,"

He smirked.

"I like the way you touch me. I like the things we try. I like the orgasms. I don't like you. At all."

He shrugged as best he could, "I'm fine with that."

I sighed and slowly drew my hands from my sides up to behind my head. His face emptied of emotion, making it impossible for me to read him. We stared at each other for a good minute before he nonverbally used a spell to remove my thin pajama pants and tank top. He kissed my forehead, the bridge of my nose, the tip of my nose, and then softly on my lips. I softly sighed against his lips and hoped that he'd be fast. His kisses were slow, almost sweet; he kissed me for several minutes before he barely pulled away to mumble, "Open your legs."

I gulped and did so.

"Bring your knees up."

I silently sighed and did so.

He half smirked, half smiled, and slowly slid his full length into me. A small groaned escaped from my throat; it was obvious that he enjoyed the sound of my groans and the pleasure slowly washing over my face. He groaned the second he was fully in me and leaned closer to me. His body pressed against mine, but most of his weight was on his hands. He stared at me and didn't move, so I mumbled out, "…What?"

He chuckled and looked at my hands. I rolled my eyes and loosely wrapped my arms around his neck; I kept my left on the base of his neck and ran the other through his thick hair. He gently kissed me a few times, but he still didn't move, so I just had to ask, "Why aren't you doing anything?"

He half smirked, half smiled while whispering almost sweetly, "I just want to be inside you."

I drew in a deep breath, rolled his statement over in my mind a few times, gulped and said, "That's…sweet?"

Voldemort smirked again and slowly started to rotate his hips in small circles. I gasped and groaned at the strange, but delightful, new feeling. His smirk widened at the sight of my fluttering eyes; he kissed my neck and started to rotate his hips counter clock wise, earning an even louder moan from me. He chuckled in my right ear, "Feels good, ehy?"

I half panted, half breathed out, "Ya—Yeah."

"Do you like it better in this direction, or the original direction?"

"Thi—This way," a soft moan made its way from between my lips, "definitely this way."

He gradually quickened the pace of his rotation, the whole time he watched my face contort with pleasure with a wicked satisfaction. I'm not quite sure what I did that told him to start having a conversation with me, but as I neared my orgasm, he sighed into my left ear, "I've been thinking,"

"Is that sAAAooh?"

He laughed, "Yes, and I've decided that when you turn twenty, I'm going to freeze you."

"Ahh," I groaned and dug my nails into his back, "Fa-freeeEEEEze?"

He laughed again, "Yes, so we can be twenty forever."

I rolled my eyes, "Aww," My body tensed and then shuddered against his. I moaned, groaned, and almost screamed as a surprisingly powerful orgasm ripped through my body. He smiled widely and wickedly while continuing his fast rotation. He watched with nefarious bliss while I almost violently orgasmed. He rode my orgasm out, and once he was sure that I was finished, he started to thrust into me. I groaned out of pleasure and pain; the abrupt change of motions against my sensitive clit and inside of my sensitive flower was rather painful, but mostly pleasurable. I gasped, "Wha—What are you doing?"

He grinned and rushed out, "Achieving my own orgasm."

I rolled my head back into the pillow, scratched at his back, and did my best to breathe. He wrapped his arms around my legs, thrusted into me as hard and fast as he could, and within a minute or so, he came. He slammed his full length into me, tossed his head back, and groaned while he shot his seed into me. Almost immediately after he pulled out, he collapsed on top of me. He softly panted in my left ear, wrapped his arms around my waist, and rolled onto his side. He held me against him, occasionally kissing me in between statements, "What do you think about that, Kitten?"

"Think about what?" I yawned and did my best to stretch.

"About being young forever."

I put my hands on his chest, but he held me too tightly to go anywhere. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure if I like the idea."

"Being young forever, or being young forever with me?"

"Well," I scoffed, "I'm pretty sure we don't have to even visit your latter statement, that's obvious."

He rolled his eyes.

"I don't want to be young forever."

"Why not?" he snapped suddenly, "That's everybody's want."

"Not mine."

"Why?"

"I've planned my whole life on the basic idea of going to school, working hard, becoming successful, and getting married and having kids somewhere during all that."

"You could still have kids—"

"And watch them become fifty while I'm stuck at twenty? Oh no, no, no. I want to grow old with my husband, I want to watch my children grow while I grow, too. I want _them_ to bury _me_, not the other way around."

Voldemort sighed and played with my curly, now sex hair, with his right hand, "Perhaps my mind will change by the time you're twenty," he smirked, "but I doubt it, so revise your life plan."

I groaned out of anger and obvious displeasure. "I hate you."

"I know," he sighed, not fazed one bit. He kissed the top of my head before yawning, "and I really don't give a damn."

"I know," I sighed.

"You have an eventful day tomorrow, Neemie, go to sleep."

I rolled my eyes and then closed them.

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I woke up with a yawn, but groaned and tried to push away from Voldemort. He instantly let go of me and laughed while I almost rolled off my bed. I sighed, slowly sat up, and looked at my clock. We're apparating at ten thirty, and right now it's eight thirty two; since all of my things are already packed and ready to go, all I have to do is shower and get ready. He silently watched as I walked into my bathroom, but I closed and locked the door behind me. I washed my whole body, including my hair, twice. I did my curly hair routine with a lot of care, magically dried my hair, and then magically dried my body. I ignored Volders when I walked out and made a B-line to my closet. I slipped into a matching gold and scarlet bra and thong, and did the Thriller to get into a pair of super skinny, metallic gold jeans. I slipped into a thin, scarlet colored, long sleeve shirt, and wore the one pair of Converse that I didn't pack, my Gryffindor red ones; I didn't pack them because I knew I'd want to wear them today.

Voldemort sighed when I walked out of my closet. "Are you going to miss me, Neemie?"

I grabbed my wand from my night stand, slid it comfortably in my right front, jean pocket, "I sure hope not."

He laughed, "I'll write you if it'd lessen your pain."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure that would cure me of all my frustration, misery, and other hard feelings."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Ha. Ha. Ha."

He just smirked. I magically lifted my trunk, opened my door, and looked over my right shoulder. I flashed him a fake smile, pressed the back of my right hand against my forehead, and put my left hand on my left hip. "Until we meet again, my sweet lover."

Voldemort rolled his eyes and laughed, "It'll be Halloween before you know it."

I sighed, "And it'll be November first before you know it."

His smirk widened.

"You know, the part of the day where I leave."

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

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My dad, Gaston, and Lucius came to King's Cross with Draco, Drea, and me. Our fathers walked behind Gaston and Drea, who were happily chatting away while walking behind Draco and me. Draco and I walked in silence, but we walked very close to each other. He entered Platform Nine and Three Quarters immediately after me, stopping just in time not to run into me. Our friends didn't notice us yet, so Draco looked down at me, "Do you want to share a compartment with me?"

"Yes."

He smiled and quickly walked onto the train with my right behind him. He handed his trunk to a group of house elves, who levitated it, checked the name tag, and then sorted it into the Slytherin section of trunk storage; I did the same, but obviously had my trunk sorted into the Gryffindor section. Draco grabbed my left hand with his right and hurried us to a compartment that I've never noticed before. He quickly closed the curtains to the hallway and sat down across from me. I stared out the window while he stared at me. We were quiet for a minute before he said, "I can't wait to get out of this place?"

"Are you serious?" I laughed, "I've never been more excited to come back."

Draco shrugged and stared out the window, "Has he told you what he's appointed me with?"

I refrained from bringing attention to the cockiness in his voice, "I've been informed."

He smirked, "Excitin', isn't it?"

I looked from the window to him. "Draco," I breathed, "I—"

He gave me an angry look before he spat, "You don't think I'm capable?"

"No!" I sat up straighter, "I know you're capable of sneaking in the Death Eaters…"

He gave me a curious, slightly peeved look.

I sighed and then slowly leaned closer to him from the waist. I rested my elbows on my knees, loosely held my hands, and looked up at him, "I refuse to believe you're capable of murder."

He stayed silent.

"You are not a murder, Draco."

He was suddenly very angry, "How could you know what I am and am not capable of? If he thinks that I can do it—"

I sighed and leaned back against my seat, "He thinks many things that aren't true, Dray. He thinks that I'm completely infatuated with the idea of growing old, err… Of being young forever with him."

Draco was instantly concerned, but he was still slightly angry, "What are you talking about?"

"He thinks that he'll never be defeated, he thinks that I'll just love being frozen at twenty and living forever with him. He also thinks that I'm not actually in love with you."

Draco was silent for a very long time. I regretted my last statement almost instantly. I wish I could take the words back before they drifted into his ears, before I even—

"I love you, too."

I gulped and looked back at him, "What?"

He drew in a deep breath, looked at me, and said a little bit louder, "I love you, too."

"Re—Really?"

"Yes," he smiled, loudly breathed out of his nose, and then looked at me with a new set of eyes, "I do." I watched as he stood up, took one step, turned, and then sat down to my left. He wrapped his right arm around my waist, gently pulled me to his side, and sighed when I gently placed my head against his shoulder. We sat in comfortable silence, just listening to the sound of our breathing. I moved my head about an inch and could hear his heartbeat. I smiled and sighed as the steady sound of his strong, healthy heartbeat swirled into my ear.

Somehow, someway, Ginny stumbled across us. At first she didn't register that it was Draco and I hugging happily and relaxing into the soft, couch like seat the compartments offer. She blinked a few times before Draco spat, "Well what?"

I rolled my eyes and then looked up at her, "Hello."

She stared at me for ten seconds before saying, "I was just looking for an empty compartment—"

"Keep looking, blood—"

"Stop that." I snapped while looking up at Draco, "If you must be vulgar and rude, do so with your vulgar and rude friends, not with me."

He drew in a deep breath and gave me a stern look. I gave him one right back. We occupied the space in silence, Draco and I trying to make a point with our eyes. We probably would have gone on like that for the remainder of the train ride if Ron didn't shout,

"Oi! Ginny! Di'ya find one?" All three of us tensed while Ron, Hermione, and Harry shoved themselves past Ginny, sat across from Draco and I, and then did a double take.

"What's this?" Harry was both angry and confused.

"It's called a relationship, Scarhead, ever heard of one?"

I sighed while the two of them bickered back and forth. Hermione and Ginny kept looking at each other and then at us while Ron just flat out stared at us. Draco finally cussed out Harry, sprang up, and then looked down at me, "Come on, lets go."

I slowly rose to my feet, intertwined my left hand with his right, and quietly told Ginny and Hermione goodbye. Harry and Ron shouted in unison, "Where are you going?"

Before Draco could turn around to shout at them some more, I pulled him forward so that he wouldn't stop walking away and sang to him, "Run baby, run, don't ever look back. They'll tear us apart if you give them the chance."

He smiled.

"Don't tell your heart, don't say we're not meant to be. Run baby, run, forever we'll be, you and me."

He smiled and let me pull him along and mumbled, "I'll be waiting, wishing, wanting, yours for the taking."

We quietly sang random lyrics while I navigated us to a compartment with Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. I don't really get along with any of these people, however, they're aware of my situation with Voldemort. Pansy is angry with me since my father crucioed her father, but he deserved it, so I don't feel bad. Blaise and I have been polite to each other in the past; we're not exactly fond of each other, but we're not rude or snippy with each other, either. Crabbe and Goyle pretty much do whatever they're told, and their fathers told them not to get on my bad side; I'm Voldemort's (unwilling) lover, I'm not one to be messed with.

I silently sat next to Draco for the remainder of the train ride. Every once and a while I would have a quiet, almost completely inaudible conversation with Draco, or I would put my input on a topic of discussion, but for the most part, I was quietly staring out the window, completely content with day dreaming.

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**A/N: Please review! (To those of you who have been reviewing, thank you so much!)**

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**A/N: Cass: I'm glad you're fond of my nick name for Voldemort, Asshat. :P**

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**A/N: lolie lolszx: I threw in some heart-to-heart in here for you. :P Volders has grown a bit of a weak spot for her, ehy?**

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**A/N: YumiDarkness: Thank you for the review! I'm going to start disappointing you, though, I have a busy week ahead of me, plus my school is starting in a little over two weeks. :C**

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**A/N: FredsForeverFanGirl: I'd like to start off by saying that I love Fred and wish he didn't die, but at least he has George's ear to keep him company. C: I can't wait to write the proposal scene. :D

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**A/N: Bit of an after thought, but I hope all the sex scenes isn't disgusting anyone. Voldemort and Neema's whole relationship is based off of sex; if Voldemort and Neema didn't have that, her and Draco wouldn't be the way they are right now. So if you're not a fan of sex, I'm sorry, but it's apart of this story of mine.**


	26. Letter to Lucille

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Letter to Lucille**

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We didn't have to change into our robes this year for the first feast. We still have to wear our uniforms, but Dumbledore isn't being as strict as he used to be. Last year, with that crazy hag Umbridge, everything was ridiculously strict. I heard on the train that Dumbledore is very ill this year, plus he's guilt ridden about last years events, so we don't have to wear our uniforms until tomorrow for class. The first years have to wear their robes for identification; not out of cruelty, but so the prefects know whom to assist to get into the correct House.

I sat down with my usual small group of Gryffindor friends at the Gryffindor table. I've actually grown rather popular since I've lost weight, but those people aren't my real friends; I've kept my first Hogwarts friends, my real ones. Dumbledore was in the middle of his usual, beginning of the year speech, when my friend, Gina, leaned to her right and whispered to me, "Is it true?"

I gave her a curious look, "What are you talking about?"

"You know," she looked at Dumbledore and then back at me, "Are you and Draco going out now? Ron and Harry were shouting about it in disbelief; Harry thinks you're going to be a Death Eater now, like your dad. He's convinced that Draco's a Death Eater, too."

I sighed and whispered, "I'll tell you everything once we're back in our dorm, okay?"

"Okay." She breathed and then looked back at Dumbledore. Draco and I occasionally made eye contact during the feast. Katrina, another long time friend of mine, saw this, looked at me, and then said, "I guess it is true."

I rolled my eyes and smirked, "Don't be jealous."

She laughed before saying, "He's a douche, but he is pretty damn fine."

Gina smirked and nodded while I sighed.

Katrina continued to talk, "Your dad won't let you guys, you know, you and Drea and Gaston, to marry anyone who's not a pureblood."

After I swallowed the mash potatoes in my mouth, I mumbled, "Yeah, so what?"

"So…" she smirked, "You two gonna tie the knot?"

I did my best not to spit my pumpkin juice out, but some did dribble down my chin. I gently wiped my face before replying, "We've been dating for a month, maybe one and a half."

"So? Gina smiled rather goofily, "One month can easily turn into two, and that can easily become six months… then a year… Then a life time."

I laughed and blushed; the majority of our conversations over the feast were about Draco. They all wanted to know how we came about, but I stayed firm when I told them that I'd tell them later tonight. We ended up pigging out on the desserts; I couldn't take their complaints about their body insecurities last year, so I made them start exercising. Ever since then we've been extremely healthy. Tonight, however, we didn't care. We ate all the desserts we could stuff down our throats; we still have sweet toothes.

Once we wre in our dorm and situated in our beds, Gina yawned, "What have you been pu to this summer?" She winked playfully, "hmm?"

I sighed, "Come over here and I'll tell you guys." They groaned, but they sat down on my bed. I sat up, leaned closer to them, and said, "You guys can't tell anyone."

"Of course we won't." Gina smiled warmly.

I gulped, "I was busy all summer, too busy to write you guys…" Usually one of them would scoff or make a sarcastic remark, but they saw my silent tears and sat closer to me. I drew in a deep breath before whispering, "We moved, next door to the Malfoys… Drea and I blared some music and danced…" I drew in another deep breath before rushing out, "Voldemort walked over with half of his inner circle. Raped me. All summer."

They were quiet, at first they thought I was joking, but when they saw all my tears they knew I was serious. They hugged me and cried with me while I told them of all the times Voldemort and I had sex, all the places, all the ways. I told them that is why and how Draco and I got together, because of the horrible circumstances. I told them everything about Draco and I, I told them about Voldemort getting his youth back and wanting to freeze me at twenty, once I get there. The three of us ended up sleeping in my bed; it was awkward and a bit crowded, but it was easier to cry together than apart. I took the first quick shower and got dressed, but I waited for them so we could go eat together. We were clumsy and tense because we didn't know how to react to anything. I hit them with some pretty heavy news, but we gradually went back to acting normally.

Draco, on the other hand, steadily became tenser; the reality of being a Death Eater was setting in. He didn't exactly push me away, and it wasn't like we were starting to fall out of love, but he was always angry. I often gave him massages and just agreed with everything he said so that he could calm down. We went to five or six very nice, very expensive dinners at Hogsmeade over the course of a month. I was sitting with him at the Slytherin Table on October fifteenth when his Eagle Owl dropped a letter almost directly onto my lap. We both cringed when I slowly picked the coal black envelope off of my lap and onto the table in front of me. I drew in a deep breath, looked up into his oddly warm, grey eyes, and whispered, "I don't want to open it."

He gulped and wrapped his left arm around my waist; his touch comforted me, and my touch soothed his Dark Mark. Voldemort was less than pleased to be going about knowing that I wasn't at my home, completely under his command. Draco kissed the top of my head, lingering in my soft hair before whispering, "You have to."

I sighed.

"I'm here for you."

I smiled weakly and slowly tore the top of the envelope. I gulped and gently pulled out a surprisingly bright piece of yellowish parchment out. I wasn't surprised to see the absurdly neat, and really rather attractive handwriting – don't judge me, it's like perfect calligraphy – of Voldemort. I sighed and leaned into Draco; I whispered into his left ear, "_Awww_, Volders wrote me a letter."

Draco chuckled at my comment and held me a bit tighter. I looked down at my letter while Draco pretended not to try reading it at the angle I was holding it. I sighed while reading Voldie's wonderful letter:

_Neema,_

_I've been terribly bored these last few days. I've been kept busy with all my planning, but I do occasionally have time for myself. I usually spent this time with you, well, in you, but now I have nothing to do. I have been spending more time with Nagini, but she isn't as witty as you. I didn't realize how very much like your father you are until I started to watch the picture box with him in the evenings; he's quick like you. Well… I suppose you're quick like him._

_You share many features with him, you know. You look a lot like your mother, – rather petite, quite curvaceous, etc… – but you look more like your father. I noticed that you two have the same hair and eye color; however, he's darker than you. I suppose you're on the light side of olive because your mother is rather light. Now that I look at her, she's tall as well; why are you so short? Both of your parents are tall, there is no reason for you to be short. _

_Anyway, I suppose I'm writing you because Halloween is just around the corner, and I've been thinking about your costume. I have instructed your father to not attend the ball, that being so, I expect you to wear something that will appeal to me. To tell you the truth, Neemie, I'm not quite sure how I've gone this long without you here to satisfy me. I will be sending you money a week before Halloween so that you may buy a costume to my liking. Do not wear this costume to the Hogwarts Halloween Ball; only I may escort you in this costume. I expect you to wear a much different, much more modest costume to the ball. Do not fornicate with Draco near Halloween – of course I know you two are having sex, I'm no fool; I will be taking you as soon as possible, and I will not stand having you after another. You are mine. You belong to me._

_I'm taking you to a ball of sorts; Lucius is holding it in Malfoy Manor, yes, Draco will be coming as well. You will be by my side during the whole event; you are not his date, you will not even speak to him unless I say otherwise. You may speak when my Death Eaters speak to you, but don't start conversations with them. You are mine, and I will not hesitate to crucio you during the ball to make sure you know that. I don't want to hurt you, Neemie, so do not make me have to do that._

_Nagini has grown fond of your room and finds all your shelves a plethora of amusement. I doubt you like knowing that, though. However, it is your room, and you should know what goes on in it. Nagini isn't the only explorer of your room; I was going through your closet, imaging the way you'd look in your tight winter dresses, and I found quite the interesting box. I see you left your pipe and marijuana here; it's a disgusting habit and I wish you'd drop it, but if it enables you to have indefinable, kinky sex with me, then I can turn a blind eye._

I gulped, looked at Draco, and then whispered, "Don't read any more of this letter. I don't want—"

Draco smiled weakly, "You don't have to explain to me."

I smiled and tenderly kissed him on the lips for a moment before continuing to read Voldemort's letter to me.

_Below your enabler, I found quite an interesting, yet somewhat depressingly small stack of pornography. I won't lie, at first I was enraged; am I not enough for you? I'm nine inches of absolute, raw pleasure. All you do is wither and scream when I give it to you, how could __**I**__ not be enough for __**you**__. Regardless of my rage, I started to flip through it; why didn't you tell me you were bisexual? We could have brought in another woman whenever you wanted to. _

_I started to look around whenever I left the house, and I, quite honestly, cannot find a woman fit for your beauty. Perhaps you have some ideas? There were a few good looking women that I thought you might fancy, but I couldn't get excited for them, so whoever you bring in will be solely for you._

_I don't think you fully understand my frustrations. I cannot become hard for any other women. I've attempted two other sexual interactions, but I just did not find them as appealing, attractive, or just overall sexy as you. Don't hesitate to come early or stay late, or both._

_Write me back, soon._

I sighed angrily; I like to pretend that I'm completely straight. I haven't told anyone about my closet bisexuality. I joked about it once with my mother, and she told me, "Don't be ridiculous. You can decide that when you have sex with a woman." Which is straight up stupid; did she have to have sex with a man before she knew she liked them? No. Anyway, I like to pretend I don't own such things. They're dirty and they make me feel dirty, but at the same time, they allow me to release my homosexuality. I find that I'm mostly heterosexual, but there's no denying that I'm attracted to women, too.

I sighed and gave Draco a random kiss to reassure myself. He half smirked, half smiled down at me while I wiggled my eyebrows at him. I laughed and then asked him to give me a piece of parchment and a quill so that I could get my reply out of the way. He smiled rather weakly, bent over to gather the materials from his bag, and then gave them to me. I sighed, dipped the quill into black ink, and then looked into Draco's eyes. With a soft voice, I told him, "I love you very much."

He smiled, "I love you, too."

I sighed and softly kissed his shoulder, "I prefer you now, and will always prefer you to him."

He chuckled, "I already know that."

I didn't look up at his face, "I'm going to pretend that I like him a bit. He'll be less awful with me if I do that. And…" I snuggled into him for a moment, "if I please him in all the ways he wants, more than sexually, I can talk him into cutting you some slack."

"Neema—"

"I was able to do it for my father, and _your_ father."

Draco sighed.

I playfully rolled my eyes, "You're welcome."

He quietly laughed at me while lazily watching as I started my reply letter.

_Voldie, _

_I'd like to start off by saying that I'm glad you find me more intelligent than a snake._

_I have been bombarded with schoolwork since the first day of lessons. I haven't been able to think much of my home life; Snape is assigning essays like they're going out of style. On the bright side, he is much kinder to me now. Almost all of the Slytherin's are more pleasant towards me, now. They quietly ramble to their friends about what's happening between us; some are surprised that you consider me "worthy" while some just think I'm a slut. I am deeply involved with Draco, and as much as you don't like it, I don't give a damn. He makes me happy; he makes me feel tingly inside without having to insert his penis. Isn't that wonderful?_

_I am very much like my father. We have the same sense of humor, we think similarly, and the majority of my facial features come from him. I am short because my mother's mother is very short, as is her immediate family. Thank you for pointing out my height, I was not aware that I am the shortest person in my home. My two lovers, Draco and you, are quite tall as well, so it's not like I exactly forget. _

_Perhaps I'll be a fairy? But we really should match. Perhaps I'll be a genie and you'll be the master? You'd like that. Hah. Maybe I'll be a belly dancer or something, and you can be Aladdin. Have you read 1000 Arabian Nights? If not, Aladdin won't make much sense to you._

_I cannot stay any longer than you have arranged; I have much too much work to complete and lessons to make sure I completely understand to spend time wasting away at parties I'm not allowed to actually speak at. However, I have the whole of December off, so I'm sure you can think up all sorts of ways to spend my time while I'm at home. Consider Halloween a sample._

_Who are you to tell me what is and isn't disgusting? You kill people for fun; you are a RAPIST, and a VICIOUS MURDER. I'm pretty sure you're not exactly the perfect person, either. Also, I really wish you'd let me keep some secrets. I'm very deep in the closet about my bisexuality; they'd accept me, but it'd still be awkward. My family was never really one to be loving and open to those who are different. We're really considerably wonderful, but we're still a rather twisted bunch. I suppose we'd have to be to have a father that's a Death Eater and a daughter that's the sex slave of The Dark Lord._

_Anyway, I don't want to bring in another woman. Like I already hinted at, I'm perfectly happy with being the in the closet. I may change my mind later, but for now, I'm perfectly content with my choice. Please don't bring up my bisexuality, or my "enablers" up any more; it makes me feel bad, and I don't like that. The more depressed I am, the less inclined I am to have mind blowing, fantastic sex with you on Halloween._

_I wish we could do more than just sex, shopping, and parties, though. Please do some planning in your free time to make me feel better once I see you again._

_Neema_

I read my letter over, fixed up my punctuation, and then looked at the black envelope. I fished my wand out of my left pocket, magically fixed the envelope, and then slid my folded piece of parchment into the envelope. I cringed as I licked the flap; it tasted of him, so I made it fast and then sealed the envelope. Apparently he wanted my letter quickly, because it dissolved once I closed it, no doubt appearing in his hands now.

I sighed and then turned my head to look up at Draco, "Apparently you're coming on Halloween, too."

"I know. I'm supposed to apparate us there."

"I'm not allowed to talk to you at the ball."

"I know."

"We're not allowed to have sex beforehand. He'll punish us severely if we do."

"I know."

"I'd like to have sex with you before the last week of this month."

He smirked, "Me too."

I sighed, "But you're always so busy—"

"I'm sure I can find some time for that." He smirked and wiggled his brows.

I laughed and leaned my body into his, "Good." I slid my left hand up his left arm and lightly touched his Dark Mark through the thin fabric of his white shirt. I don't know how or why I can sooth his pain, but I do, and we both like that. I gently pressed my thumb into his forearm and massaged it in small, counter clockwise circles. He quietly sighed with happiness while I continued to rub his Dark Mark. I rested my head on his shoulder and thought about the Hogwarts Halloween Ball. Without looking up at him, I asked, "What will you be going as? To the Hogwarts Ball."

"A sailor."

I looked up, "Why?"

"Because," he smirked and looked down at me, "I saw the outfit and knew you'd like it."

I rolled my eyes.

"What will you be going as?"

"I don't know."

His smirk widened, "You could go as a siren."

I laughed but then said, "That's not a bad idea."

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**A/N: Please review!**

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**A/N: I stayed up until three thirty to write the majority of this chapter, and responsibility woke me up at seven thirty this morning. I start school in a little less than two weeks, and I really don't want to go, mostly because I STILL have to finish reading for my classes. *long sigh* At least I'm mostly done with the reading. Anyway, being how I stayed up so late and woke up so early, I don't really have the energy to respond to my AWESOME reviewers. So, I'm not going to for this chapter. However, I will respond to the reviews on this chapter. So please go review!**


	27. Why Don't We Just Dance?

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Why Don't We Just Dance?**

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Voldemort continued to write me letters; he didn't believe that I'm overwhelmed with school work, so now whenever I receive my assignments after my professors grade and log them, I mail them to Voldemort. He occasionally bounces ideas off of me because I'm "the only one who does more than do what I say. In a room filled with grown, powerful men, you are the only one who will talk back, or just share a different idea than my own." Sometimes he rambles on about how he'll change the order of the wizarding world, and I always tell him how that there is nothing wrong with muggle borns, and that they don't "steal magic from _real_ witches and wizards." One time I had the nerve to tell him, "Have you forgotten that you yourself are a half-blood? You are the most powerful wizard in the world, surely those without pure blood have worth." The parchment of his next letter burned my fingertips whenever I touched it. However, his latest letter included a large sum of money to buy a costume for the Hogwarts Ball, and another costume for the Death Eaters Ball. He told me he didn't care what I went as to the Hogwarts Ball, but that I had to come to the Death Eaters Ball as a Succubus since he decided to be an Incubus.

I made Draco come with me to pick out costumes; at first he was set on not going, but then I told him that I'll need a mans opinion since I'm buying my costume to appeal to a monster man. We checked out every store in Hogsmeade, but none of them had the appeal I needed to persuade Voldemort to do anything. After a long search, Draco sighed and quietly led me to a shop hidden behind several other shops. It was quite the dark shop, both in context of magic and in generality.

Since it's October they had plenty of costumes. I almost immediately found several costumes portraying a Siren; some were based off the idea of mostly a sparrow, but there was one that I liked quite a bit. It had shoes that looked like birds feet, it came with an elaborate set of wings, and the dress was short and choppy. The heels were a strange, but not ugly, mixture of light blue and yellow, giving the look of the bird feet an exotic twist, and the large wings were the same color. The wings were about five feet from left to right, somewhat glittery, and were surprisingly light. The dress can either come in yellow or blue, so I chose blue. It ends mid thigh, exposes quite a bit of my back, and has slashes on the stomach. It also emphasizes my curves while actually not showing a lot of cleavage, and absolutely no butt.

I smirked to myself and had Draco sit down on a red chair while trying the costume on. I already knew it would fit; the woman measured me and magical clothing will automatically fit to flatter your body, but I wanted to see Draco's reaction. I quickly, but carefully, took off my shoes, wiggled out of my skinny jeans, slid my shirt off, and slipped into the tight dress of the costume. I adjusted it as necessary, slipped my bra straps under the thin straps of the dress, and carefully put on the very high heels. I told Draco to close his eyes while I put on the wings; the wings were too large to take into the dressing room with me, so I left them on the outside of the door to put on last. Draco closed his eyes and put his hands over his eyes while I walked out and put the wings on. I adjusted them a bit so that they'd fit me well, and then I told him to look. His jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes widened, and he stuttered, "You look _fantastic_."

I half smirked, half smiled, "Do I?"

He smirked and stood up. He snaked his arms around my waist and tilted his head to the right while gently flipping his loose bangs away from his eyes. I smiled at his unkempt hair; he usually combs his hair, but ever since I told him that I think his messy hair is sexy he's made sure not to comb it _too_ nicely. He only combs it after he showers or when it's starting to look dirtier than anything else. His cool, fresh breath lightly tickled my face while he replied, "More than words can express."

I lightly blushed and silently thanked the heels for being so high because now I'm at the perfect height to kiss Draco. I lazily closed my eyes while gently pressing my cool lips against his warm lips. He smiled against my lips and tenderly squeezed me into his chest. We didn't stop kissing until the older woman of the shop loudly faked a cough. We quietly giggled while pulling away; Draco looked at me and then at her, "It's perfect; we'll take it." I changed into my clothes and paid for the outfit with the money Voldemort gave me. Draco and I were about to leave, but then Draco stopped us several feet from the door and asked me, "Do you want to buy the Succubus outfit now or later?"

I sighed and put most of my weight on my left leg. I crossed my arms against my chest, tilted my head to the left, and softly replied, "I probably should just get it out of the way."

He smiled to comfort me, "Shall I pick it out for you?"

I rolled my eyes and smiled, "Sure."

He wiggled his brows suggestively, but still playfully, and then walked towards the back of the shop. I made casual conversation with the older woman while Draco searched through racks of extremely sexy costumes. I could practically feel his smirk when I heard him stop shuffling through the costumes. He walked over to me with the costume behind his back. Draco's smirk widened, if that's possible, and said, "Are you a fan of snakes?"

I shrugged and frowned crookedly, "Not really."

"Well," he sighed, but not with any disappointment or defense, "_he is_. So, if we're going to get anywhere, you'll have to start liking snakes."

I wiggled my brows for a second or two, "May I see the costume?"

He quickly moved the costume from behind him to a foot away from his right side. The costume he picked not only had very high, red heels, but also came with subtle, fake fangs. The main part of the costume, the actual clothing part, was a red snake. I had some difficulty with it, so the older woman came into the dressing room with me and helped me with it. The costume came with a nude colored tube bra and panty that completely covers my front and back, but my skin isn't the same shade as the coverage garments, so the woman quickly found a set that matched my skin tone surprisingly well. I quickly slipped into the garments while she carefully unwound the snake piece of the costume. The tail and several feet more tightly wrapped around my upper thighs and around my private area; about an inch of space separated each spiral wrap around my body; the snake wrapped around the top of my hips, around the middle of my stomach, and then up to my breasts. It held my left breast up and securely against my chest, like a bra, then wrapped around my neck, and then did the same with my right breast; the head of the snake rested against three inches below the middle and bottom of my breasts.

The finished product even made me gasp, but I did my best not to laugh when I saw Draco become instantly hard as I walked out of the dressing room. He gasped loudly, ran his hands up his neck and through his hair, and then mumbled, "Oh my Lord."

I smirked, walked up to him, and slowly ran my right index finger up from the bottom of his neck to the tip of his chin. I rested my left hand on an exposed area of my left side, tilted his head to left and mine to the right, "What do you think?"

He smirked back down at me, "That'd I'd bang you right here, right now, if he wouldn't kill me."

I refrained from chuckling and raised my right brow, "_Bang?_"

He leaned closer to me so that his lips would be mere centimeters from mine, "Yes. An outfit like that automatically strikes out making love."

I laughed and kissed him lightly on the lips; the high heels made it so that I wouldn't have to stand on my tiptoes. Draco carefully wrapped his arms around my waist and roughly, yet rather passionately, kissed me back. I groaned against his lips and leaned into his chest when he slipped his tongue into my mouth. I quickly became lost in his lust filled kiss, but then I remembered where we are, so I placed my hands firmly against his chest, pulled away from his lips, and pushed myself away. He smirked devilishly while I regained my breath, "I like us better alive."

Draco laughed and waited while I changed back into my clothing. The older woman offered me a set of magical fake, long, red nails to add to the Succubus look. She let me try them on before purchase; they're magical because they slowly and painlessly molded to my nails. Draco agreed with me that they did look good with the costume, so I took them off and bought them, too.

Draco and I held hands while walking back to Hogwarts; many of our fellow Gryffindors and Slytherins gave us rude looks, but we don't care. Who are they to judge us? They know nothing about our situations, or about us as people, or us as a couple. Harry and Ron are easily the most upset. Draco is nothing less of obvious when it comes to his blood puritism and his overall hate of all those who don't agree with that, and I'm the exact opposite of that. I was a key member of Dumbledore's Army, and I still would be if it still were active. When it comes down to wizarding lifestyles and politics, I always preach about equality and justice. I'm a firm believer in real, equal, unbiased justice. How could the two of us get together? Sure, opposites attract, but not usually _this_ opposite. If he was going to be with any Saravia surely he would be with my sister, Drea. They're both Slytherins, they both relish in their pure blood ancestry, and they get along. Our relationship doesn't really make sense, but our lives don't make sense either.

Draco walked me up to Gryffindor Tower and waited outside of the portrait while I jogged up the stairs to my dorm, put my costumes on my bed, jogged back down, and then exited the tower to be with Draco. He smiled at me and loosely wrapped his left arm around me; we talked about the Hogwarts Ball while walking to the Room of Requirements. Draco makes the most progress, in terms of his Death Eater duties, when I'm around to sooth and support him. I was quiet while he focused and walked back in forth three times in front of the ROR. He opened the door and let me walk into the room first; I've been in here a hundred times with him, but I still don't like the place. I sat down on a near by desk and silently watched Draco take a small black bird out of a cage and gently carried it to the Vanishing Cabinet. Seeing him handle the bird with so much care, so tenderly, showing such a defenseless creature physical kindness brought happiness to my heart; he is **not** a murder. Of course this will probably be problematic when the time comes to kill Dumbledore, but I'm more than positive that Snape will be the one to actually do that.

I looked away when Draco sat the small bird in the Vanishing Cabinet so that he wouldn't feel my eyes on him, allowing him not to feel judged or pressured. I said a silent prayer while he poured all of his concentration into performing the necessary spell to send the bird to the sister cabinet. He sighed with no emotion when the chirping of the bird stopped. He slowly opened the door of the cabinet and weakly smiled when he saw that the bird is gone, but he quickly became nervous and swiftly closed the door. I noiselessly slid off of the desk and walked up behind Draco. I thanked God for the wisdom of changing into a pair of heels before leaving my dorm and nestled my face into the right side of Draco's neck. He sighed and his body visibly relaxed when he felt my cool breath against his hot neck. I relaxingly ran my hands from his shoulders, to his wrists, and back. I nibbled on his neck the way I know he likes before whispering, "You are a very competent, skilled, young wizard. There is no doubt that you can successfully retrieve that bird."

He smiled and his breathing relaxed. He whispered, "I love you."

I pressed my lips into his neck so he could feel my smile. I let go of his arms, loosely wrapped my arms around his stomach, and calmed him down with the feeling of my cool breath against his neck. This was the first time he brought a bird back alive and well.

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Draco refused to let me see his costume until the Halloween Ball. It drove me crazy, and he more than enjoyed that, especially all the angry sex it led us to. Since we both knew that we wouldn't be able to do anything past kissing starting on Sunday, the twenty seventh, and probably not for a little while afterwards, – there's no doubt in our minds that Voldemort is going to make me very sore – we penciled in all the sex possible. To tell you the truth, I'm probably a nymphomaniac, and he's probably a satyriasis, but we don't mind. At all. In fact, we absolutely, without a doubt, love it.

Anyway, Draco said he'd meet me in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady at eight thirty, the dance starts at eight, but since we're wealthy and popular, we have to be late. Or something like that, I don't really know. I like to be early; punctual is late for me, but not for Draco. Draco likes to be "fashionably late", which makes no sense. What's fashionable about being late? If anything, it's rude. I assisted several girls with their hair and make-up in order to pass the time; just because he's going to be "fashionably late" doesn't mean that I'm going to change my schedule; I like being on time. I ended up letting Draco wait a couple of minutes so that I could finish Hermione's hair. I smirked while walking out of the common room; the second Draco saw me he said, "You had me worried."

"Why?" I slowly looked him over.

"Because you're never late. You define on time as being late."

I laughed and leaned against the wall next to him, but I didn't reply. I bit down on my bottom lip and drank in his costume. It's the classic uniform of an ancient Greek sailor, only it has numerous rips, and he dirtied it a bit and messed up his hair so that it'd look like he barely survived a shipwreck. The rips in his costume expose some of his favorite spots he likes me to touch, and, of course, his newly acquired definition; just because we're at Hogwarts now doesn't mean that we've stopped exercising. Most of my work is to maintain my physique, but Draco's is to reach his fitness goal, and my God does the boy look fine.

I stood back up on my own two feet and offered him my right arm, "Shall we go to the ball now?"

He chuckled and wrapped his left arm around my right and held my hand, "Of course." We chuckled at the wide-eyed, unmistakable stares from many of our fellow students. We're wealthy, we're well known, and we're gorgeous, of course we're going to get stared at. Especially since we're dressed provocatively, but interestingly, too. Draco smirked at all the glares we received; some were jealous, some were hateful. Draco let go of my hand and wrapped his arms around my waist almost as soon as we walked into the Great Hall. I ignored the longing stares at Draco from numerous girls while Draco glared daggers at many of the boys who looked at me. After a few minutes of that, I sighed, nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, and said, "I love _**you**_."

"I know," he smirked, "and I love you, too."

I smiled and kissed his neck.

Draco chuckled before saying, "Neemie, _please_."

I looked up into his grey eyes, "What?"

He chuckled again and smirked, "Don't excite me more than necessary, we're not going to be able to go at it for another week—"

I immediately laughed at him. "I hope you don't look at me at tomorrows ball then. You won't be able to control yourself."

He rolled his eyes, but he still smiled. We gently swayed to the slow songs, but the songs gradually became faster. I didn't realize that Draco was such a good dancer; he doesn't just sway along, he always leads, and he rarely makes a mistake. He expertly twirled me and bent me; he matched my speed and could continue dancing even when I threw in odd, unexpected, or off the top of my head moves. Once again, I silently thanked God for giving me wisdom, in this case, for performing spells on my hair and make-up so that they'd stay just as perfect as I made them before dancing. Draco and I were sweating profusely, and my heels were taking their toll, but we continued dancing anyway. Thanks to the constant request of the muggle borns, and the support of the Muggle Studies professor, we also danced to muggle music. Draco and I danced with no shame; we grinded, we bopped, and occasionally jumped along with the beats of the muggle songs. We didn't care about the stares or the forming rumors; we danced the night away.

Draco chuckled and I giggled when the ball ended. When the ball ended, he tightly grabbed onto my left hand with his right and ran out of the Great Hall. We were scolded and docked points several times for necking in the hallways before we stumbled into an empty classroom. We didn't go past second base, but we stayed in there for a long time. I protested it at first, tomorrow is a Thursday — well, I guess it's Thursday now — but then Draco reminded me that he too is leaving campus for Halloween, so we stayed in the classroom.

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**A/N: Please review! (The more reviews for this chapter, the more **_**detailed **_**the next.) ;]**

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**A/N: FredsFroverFanGirl: Patience is a virtue. Hahahaha. He will soon enough, I promise. :] Also, Theodore Notts should have been among the Slytherin's, but I kind of, sort of forgot he existed. Hahaha.**

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**A/N: HatOnYourHead: I'm bisexual, too, that's why Neema is. Lol Does freeasair read this story, by chance? If so, I'd like to thank them for their continuous support. A siren has several different appearances; they're described well on the Wikipedia article. It's a short read if you're still curious about their appearance. **

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**A/N: loliePERIODlolszx: WHY WON'T FANFICTION LET ME PUT THE PERIOD THERE? Anyway…. Hahaha. Question number one: She doesn't like Voldemort, which is so weird since he's a pretty nice guy, right? Haha. It's not that she likes him, – she hates him – it's that she has adjusted to him. She can't get rid of him, and there's nothing that can save her from him (except marriage), so she's trying to stay **_**somewhat**_** happy and just focus on the physical feeling, not who's giving it on her. If she had a choice, she wouldn't do anything with Voldemort.**

**Question number two: I reread the chapter before responding to your questions, and I saw the "random kiss blah blah blah reassure myself blah blah blah" line. The reassurance is to shove herself back in the closet, not to convince herself she hates Voldemort. **

**Just a side note: I disagree with you when you say "liking its not really rape". You can't control the way your body reacts when it comes to pain or pleasure or anything else. That being so, if you orgasm when you're raped that doesn't mean you actually enjoyed the experience. As far as Neema/Voldemort is concerned, though, she has a "small case of Stockholm's for you [Voldemort]." They've grown on each other, but she doesn't **_**actually**_** like him.**

**Please forgive me if my side note, or anything else, was asshole-ish. I'm on my fourth Mike's, so I'm a little bit too lazy to go back and re-reread my replies, and I'm a bit too tipsy to register when the sarcastic asshole in me comes out. **


	28. Cut Me to Ribbons

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Cut Me to Ribbons**

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Staying up until three thirty in the morning was definitely a bad idea, but we didn't care until we had to get up at seven o'clock. On the bright side, all of the things we needed were already packed, so all we had to do was be on the front steps of the Hogwarts Castle at eight o'clock. I, as usual, was early, and Draco, as usual, was late. I arrived at the stairs at seven forty seven, so I made myself comfortable against the stone railing and waited for Draco; he arrived at eight oh three. I yawned and slowly stood up into a stretch, "Why are you always late?"

He scoffed, "It's eight oh three."

"That's three minutes late."

He rolled his eyes, "Why are you always early?"

"Because I respect peoples time."

"Then you would be exactly on time, not early."

I sighed angrily and dragged my trunk over to Draco. I leaned against him, intertwined my right hand with his left, and sighed while he laughed at me. "What?"

Draco smirked and levitated the trunks with a wordless flick of his wand. "I think it's quite cute when you forget you can use magic."

I half smiled, half smirked, "I didn't forget, I'm just tired."

Draco smiled and gently tugged my arm as he led us to the castle gates. Snape met us there to open the gates for us, watched us apparate to my home, and then magically closed the gates. Draco apparated our trunks and us into my bedroom; I immediately let go of him and jumped, belly down, onto my bed. I groaned with happiness and wrapped my arms underneath my favorite pillow while resting my left cheek against it. Draco sighed and laid down next to me, doing the same with the pillow closest to him. We lazily stared at each other, but we didn't speak. I examined his every facial feature; his short, light blonde hair is lazily combed back, as if he did it absent-mindedly with his hands when he got out of bed this morning. His grey, almost blue eyes are glazed over with fatigue and soft traces of joy. His medium sized, almost thin lips are relaxed along with the rest of his face. His eyes gradually fluttered closed, unintentionally showing off his long, blonde lashes. I smiled, drew in a deep breath, stretched my body for a minute, and then relaxed into my bed and closed my eyes.

Voldemort slammed my bedroom door open, looked at us, and then sarcastically said, "Aww, how sweet."

We jumped when we heard my door slam open, but ignored his statement.

Voldemort flicked his wand at Draco's trunk, causing it to be magically sent into his own room. Voldemort sat down next to me and looked at a sleeping Draco before whispering, "Is he actually asleep?"

I replied as quietly as I could, "Yes."

"How can you tell?"

I smiled into my pillow, "I've spent many nights looking at that face."

Voldemort put his right elbow in between my shoulder blades and then leaned to the right, digging his elbow into my back. He whispered into my ear, "Wake him and tell him to leave, or else I will."

I gulped; I don't want to disturb my sleeping beauty, but if Voldemort has to wake him, it won't be with a light kiss or a gently snuggle. "I will as soon as you get off of me."

Voldemort slowly sat up; he stared at me while I slowly rolled onto my left side, scooted closer to Draco, and kissed him lightly on the lips. Draco's breath rushing out of his nose told me he woke up; his light kiss back told me he's happy. I smiled and gently ruffled his hair with my right hand before whispering, "Volders wants you out of my home."

Draco yawned, sat up, and then asked, "Where did my trunk go?"

Voldemort snapped, "It's in **your** room, where you should be."

Draco slid off of my bed, stretched his arms above his head, smiled at me, and then apparated out of my room and into his. I stared out the open doors of my balcony and saw Draco open the window like doors of his balcony. He smirked in my direction, stripped down to his boxers, and then laid down in one of the large, comfortable, reclined chairs. He put his hands behind his head for comfort, smiled at the feeling of the suns rays being absorbed into his skin, and easily fell back asleep. I stared at his peaceful, yet tired form with more than physical desire. I've never loved someone as much as I love that boy. We're more than lovers, more than best friends, we're soul mates. Even when we're indescribably angry at each other, we're happy.

Voldemort looked at me with no emotion, "That boy is no good for you."

My body shook while I roared with laughter. I rolled over to look at Voldemort after my laughing died down, "You can't be serious."

"And yet I am."

I sighed loudly and put my hands underneath my pillow and then under my head for comfort. I stared at him and waited for him to say something more, but he didn't, so I spoke. "And I suppose you're just my perfect match?"

Voldemort was still empty of emotion while he sat on the foot of my bed, but he turned a bit to look at me, "Yes."

I drew in a deep breath and then asked with a quiet voice, "How do you figure?"

A small smirked curved his lips, "Because I chose you."

A shiver danced up my spine, "You've chosen many women before me."

Voldemort's smirk was quickly replaced with a smile; a twisted, wicked, smile. He slowly crawled up my bed and laid on his side. Voldemort silently stared at my profile, his sickening smile never leaving his face. He ran the tip of his right index finger from my forehead, down, then up, and then back down my nose, down the center of my lips, down my chin and neck, and then back up to my chin. Voldemort cupped my chin and the left side of my face with his cool, large hand, and slowly turned my head so that we'd be looking into each other's eyes.

The way he stared at me made me nothing less than nervous. He's done too much to me for me to be scared, at least right now. He could kill me right now, and really, that'd be the nicest thing he's ever done to me. He could torture me right now, but that wouldn't be anything new. He could play some sick mind game with me, but that wouldn't be anything new either. He could torture Draco to torture me, but still, nothing new.

Voldemort started to pull me closer to him while still cupping my chin, forcing me to roll onto my side. He slowly slid his hand up my jaw line and entangled it into my hair. Voldemort sighed softly while snaking his left arm underneath me, wrapping it around my waist, and puling me mere inches from him. He roughly yanked my hair down, forcing me to look up into his midnight blue eyes, the eyes I could have sworn were brown when he first transformed into his new…err... old…err…original body. You know, the gorgeous one.

He tickled the tip of my nose with his and said in an unnaturally quiet and calm voice for him, "You're right."

I stared up at him with traces of fear in my eyes, but I didn't say a word.

"I have had many women before you."

I quietly gulped.

He pressed his lips firmly against mine and slowly kissed me for a minute or so before biting down on my bottom lip. I cried out with pain while he cackled and sucked a small amount of blood from my new and tiny wound. With an occasional lick to the slowly bleeding cut on my bottom lip, and the irregular pull at my hair, Voldemort whispered, "There won't be any women after you, Neema."

"I'm going to get married soon enough—"

He laughed and bit my lip again, making my cut wider. I whimpered and he sucked on it, "I don't give a damn."

"You can't break a magical marriage."

Voldemort smirked against my cut, "A magical marriage calls for true love."

I drew in a deep, angry breath to help me summon some courage. I chomped down on his bottom lip and didn't let go until he whimpered from the pain. Before he yelled at me, I said, "Then we'll last forever."

Voldemort laughed, magically healed his lip, and then crucioed me. He watched with absolute, indubitable pleasure as I screamed and withered in a place that should be safe for me. Voldemort watched as I was sliced and skinned without knives, crushed without stones, broken without pressure, beaten without hands. Voldemort crawled on top of me when he took the curse off of me. His lips were twisted into something I couldn't quite grasp, and his eyes reflected an evil I've never seen before. Voldemort has looked at me with desire, with hate, with fake affection, with curiosity, even with glazed happiness, but I've never received a look like this. Repulsion and yearning, inquisitiveness and comprehension, supremacy and submission, rage and tranquility.

I gulped when my body stopped aching and my senses could function once more. His breathing was ever so slightly labored, and his eyes revealed that his thoughts were becoming sporadic. Voldemort moved his hands further away from my sides and leaned down, as if he were doing a push-up. He stared into my confused, nervous eyes before aggressively kissing me. I whimpered when Voldemort flicked the tip of his tongue against the cut on my bottom lip, but after a few licks at it, he pulled away and mumbled a healing spell. My cut slowly healed, but he soon replaced it with a bite on my neck. My body tensed and thrashed against his once before rasping out, "What are you, a vampire now?"

Voldemort laughed, making my right ear ring for a few seconds. He sighed and nipped his way up my neck and to my mouth, "_Oh_ _Neemie_…" Voldemort adjusted his position so now he's on his elbows instead of his hands. He twisted his fingers into my curls and firmly, but somewhat tenderly, pressed his face into the left side of my neck, resting his forehead against the side of my face. Voldemort mumbled into the soft, but firm skin of my neck, "You are mine. You belong to me."

"Why?" I sighed softly, "Why _me?_"

He chuckled and relaxed his body on top of mine, but held up enough of his weight so I could breathe, "Is it really that hard, Neema?"

I thought aloud, "There are plenty pureblood women out there. Plenty of women who are better looking than me, plenty of women who are smarter than me. There are plenty of women who agree, _enjoy_ the terrible things you do."

Voldemort's words echoed into my skull and sent a single, light, tremor through my body. "I don't want a woman similar to me. They start thinking that I care for their opinions, think that they are my equals." He kissed my neck and sighed, "You really don't understand how very beautiful you are, Neema. Your curly hair," he sighed, "your almond eyes, your long lashes, your perfect brows, your full lips, your straight nose, your strong jaw line, your petite, fit body…" He kissed me again, "It's all quite enchanting, it really is."

I sighed without emotion, "I'm flattered."

He bit me.

I whimpered.

He chuckled.

"I hate you."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Voldemort sighed with annoyance, "I don't care."

"I don't care that you don't care."

He laughed, "And you wonder why I'm fond of you, Neemie?"

I sighed again.

Voldemort nonchalantly tugged at my hair, "You're feisty, you're a fighter, and you're outspoken." He grinned and mumbled gruffly, "I like that."

I slid my right hand under my pillow and under my head while running my left hand through his thick, almost black hair. I absent-mindedly uttered, "Someone so internally evil shouldn't be allowed to be so physically handsome."

Voldemort smirked against my skin.

"I think I'm coming to terms with the fact that there's no real reason why you've grown fond of me."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I also think that the only reason I tolerate you is out of fear. Fear you'll hurt me worse than ever before, fear you'll hurt my loved ones with indescribable horrors."

"Just fear?"

I was silent for a long time before whispering, "No."

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**A/N: Please review! It was a short chapter, but I think it's still a pretty important chapter.**

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**A/N: Cass: I messaged my info to HatOnYourHead. I threw in big words to get myself back in gear for my AP (advanced placement) courses. lol**

***depressed sigh * My school starts in five days. :C**

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**A/N: scara1: I also messaged you my info. (Thanks to you both! I appreciate this immensely.)**

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**A/N: MaryannTK: Thank you for the kind review. It makes my heart happy to see people enjoy my writing. :]**

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**A/N: HatOnYourHead: I couldn't have the Dark Lord be anything cheerful. Hahaha. [:**

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**A/N: AyumiiUzimaki: I'm gald some appreciates my characterization of Neema. Voldemort has wronged her in a deeply terrible way, but life doesn't wait for anybody or for any reason.**

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**A/N: lolieDOTlolszx: I saw that you were silent on chapter twenty-seven. I hope my answers didn't offend or scare you away.**


	29. Dancing in the Dark

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Dancing in the Dark**

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**Voldemort's POV**

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She was beyond beautiful when she cried; I doubt she realizes it though. I'm sure she'd stop crying if she knew I liked the way it makes her look. I don't necessarily like her distressed, but I like how she puts her guard down without even realizing what she's doing. I've never seen her weak except for the times that I've taken her, and the time she spends with Malfoy's boy. She's a different weak with Malfoy's boy, though; I like that weakness better than the weakness she shows me. What's she even doing spending time with that boy? She's mine! She belongs to me! I've made that clear! I should kill him; I should kill that boy to drive the point home. I should make her kill him! The ungrateful wench! She'll learn then whom she belongs to. Maybe keeping him alive, but not allowing her to see him would punish her more. Knowing that he's alive, but not hers. Because she's not his, she's mine.

"_Master…_" Nagini slithered by my bare feet and circled the large, purple armchair I'm seated in.

My eyes dropped down to meet her pale yellow slits, "_What?_"

Nagini waited by my feet; she knows whom she belongs to, she knows her place. "_You could mark her, master—_"

"_No!_" I snapped at Nagini and looked back up at the heap of sheets to my right. Her long, thick, curly hair is frazzled, frizzed, and messily spread out on the pillows, framing her head in the oddest of ways. The mascara she forgot to wash off from the Hogwarts Halloween Ball stained her skin under her eyes, and in thin, long streaks down her face. Her face was empty of all expression, but the way her body curved said everything she never could, everything she never would. Her feet pointed to the wall in case she'd need to make a fast getaway, her knees were a third of the way to her chest to comfort herself, and her back was arched from the pleasure I gave her. I tore my eyes away from her long enough to tell Nagini, "_Skin as perfect as that doesn't need anything like that._"

Nagini flicked her tongue out two times, "_Master… what about the mark you've been researching, creating?_"

"Ahh…" I sighed and pressed my fingertips together, creating a temple with my hands. "_Later, Nagini. I shall put my mark on her later._"

Nagini was silent for a long time; she stared up at me staring at Neema.

Ten long, quiet minutes passed before I looked down at Nagini. "_Honestly, Nagini, what do you think of her?_"

Nagini slithered circles around the chair, sporadically flicking her tongue out.

I drew in a deep breath and brought my right hand down to lightly stroke the top of her head, "_Don't be afraid. Just tell me._"

Nagini curved into the palm of my hand while I stroked her, "_She's not like the others._"

"_The others were annoying._"

"_She doesn't think like you._"

"_She'll just add to my success. She has an understanding of muggles that I will not soil my own thoughts with, waste my own time on._"

"_She could betray you—._"

"_Nonsense!_"

Nagini quickly dropped the subject, "_Master, why not Bellatrix—?_"

I scoffed and tapped Nagini's head rather roughly, "_Do you know she really thinks I like her? She's insane. Absolutely, completely insane. And annoying; I can't stand talking to her unless I'm giving her orders. That's all she's good for._"

Nagini was silent.

"_Besides_…" I looked back over at my sleeping lion and contemplated waking her, "_Look at Neemie. So fragile, so confused, so beautiful…_" I looked down at Nagini and smiled, "_She's practically begging to be broken._"

To show that she agrees, Nagini flicked her tongue out at the palm of my hand.

I smirked, stood up, and walked over to Neema's balcony. Malfoy's boy was asleep on a chair on the balcony connected to his room. I casually twirled my wand in my right hand while staring out at him, considering breaking the balcony off of the stonewall. I turned my head over my left shoulder and looked at Neema's sleeping position, looked back at Malfoy's boy, and then saw that he's in a very similar one, only facing the opposite direction. I looked back at Neema and wondered what magic she discovered these last two months. There is no natural reasoning behind this; they're not even next to each other, they shouldn't match. I'll have to tell Snape to make sure they're apart as much as possible.

Or I could just kill him. But then Neema might try to do something stupid like kill me, or herself, or Nagini.

I guess I'll just keep him alive, but they'll have to be apart.

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The ball starts at ten o'clock in the evening, and I know that Neema didn't sleep very much last night, so I let her sleep in. I can't have my date be tired and lifeless, so I woke her up at eight o'clock in the evening. She yawned and stretched her body out until her muscles shook. She yawned again before opening her chestnut brown eyes to find my dark ones analyzing her rested form. "Take a shower."

Neema didn't say anything, but she did roll over, sit up, and then walk to her bathroom. I heard the faint click of her lock just a moment before warm water gushed out of her showerhead. She took a very long shower; the water didn't stop gushing out until forty-five minutes have passed. I took the silencing charm off of the bathroom while Neema was at Hogwarts. So when I pressed my left ear against the door, I could hear her quiet shuffling and the water running on and off in the sink; she was probably brushing her teeth. I listened in on her and guessed her movements by the sound of shuffling. I was too deep into thought to hear the door unlock; she quickly pulled it open and watched with a small smile as I stumbled onto the floor.

"Just knock if you're really that curious."

I chuckled and stood back on my feet and looked her over. She was completely hairless, which is probably why her shower took so long. Her hair was half styled, and her body shone with the oil like, vanilla scented lotion I bought for her and left by the sink. Neema didn't spend any more time conversing with me; she went right back to styling her hair, so I put the toilet seat down, sat down on it, and stared at her. She curled her hair in a new way; it has grown several inches since I've seen her last, and she darkened her color for the fall and winter trends, but it was still the same brown, not some new color. She curled her hair in large, loose, classy curls that ended at the bottom of her shoulder blades. I ran my right hand against my gradually growing erection when she leaned over the sink to be closer to her mirror. She opened her mouth and gently tugged her lower lid down before sliding on a smooth line of golden brown eyeliner. She only lined the bottom of her eyes, but she did put the tiniest hint of a cat eye. She lined, filled, and then glossed her already pink, medium lips. She paid no attention to me as she put all her things away in their proper place and walked out of the bathroom and back into her room.

It was slightly difficult to walk, but I managed, and I followed her out of the bathroom. I grabbed my wand off of the dresser I put it on, flicked it towards her bed, and watched with no interest while the sheets made themselves. I sat down on the closest edge to her and watched as she slipped into an odd bra and royal purple G-string. She carefully pulled a tube top like garment that matched her skin color over breasts and another garment to cover her vagina and ass. I couldn't help my almost silent gasp when she carefully pulled her costume out of her trunk. She ignored me completely while she somehow wrapped the fake red snake securely around her body. She looked at me over her right shoulder and summoned my wand into her right hand. I laughed after she preformed a spell on her costume.

"What are you laughing at?"

I slowly stood up and walked over to her. I loosely wrapped my arms around her before whispering, "At your charm. Making sure you're the only one who can take your costume off."

She sighed with annoyance, "I made sure only you could take it off."

I was instantly flabbergasted, "What?"

Neema walked out of my arms and into a pair of surprisingly high, red heels and quickly put on her magical fake, matching red nails. She leaned against the dresser I had my wand on and replied, "I'm not going into a room filled with creepy, evil men with almost no coverage without having _some_ form of protection."

I smirked and shoved my hands into the front pockets of my slacks, "And you feel that I am ample _protection_?"

She sneered at me, "I _feel_," she spat, "that you won't let anyone touch me besides yourself."

I raised my left brow and corner of my mouth, "You are the daughter of a Ravenclaw."

"Damn right."

I laughed and then questioned her, "Why me and not you?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes as if I'm Crabbe or Goyle, "I can be intimidated, forced even."

"Forced?"

"There are only two Death Eaters I trust, and only one of them will be at the ball."

I blew air out of my mouth and rolled my eyes; her father and Malfoy's boy.

"Besides,"

I looked at her again.

"You'd jump at the chance to kill him if I took off my clothes."

I laughed, "Right again."

She laughed and laughed as if she lost her mind. "I never thought my safest place would be with my rapist, but I guess in a room filled with murders, freaks, creeps, psychopaths, and metaphorical and real monsters, the only refuge from them is their king."

I grinned and blew her a kiss, "Three in a row, you're on a roll."

She smiled sarcastically and sat down in a chair on her balcony as I took a shower to rinse off, put on a lotion that would adjust its scent to appeal to Neema, and slipped into a pair of boxer-briefs that will change into the same color as my skin. I called Nagini back into the room and had her wrap around me. She completely covered my personal areas, and then complicatedly snaked around my body. I leaned against the doorway of the balcony and whispered, "Come on, the ball is starting soon."

Neema sighed and slowly stood up. I held my left arm out for her; she lazily took it and squeezed her eyes tightly shut when I apparated us to the Malfoy Manor. We walked into the Malfoy's ballroom just as the clock loudly struck ten. The only creatures that didn't drop their jaws when they looked at us were the house elves Lucius ordered to serve and offer the guests, and that's because they were too afraid to look at us. The men did their best to rip their eyes away from Neema, but it was painfully obvious that they didn't realize just how very gorgeous Nasier's youngest is. Nasier is a very handsome man, and his wife is mind blowingly gorgeous. All their children are attractive, but Neema is something else. If she wasn't mine she could be _any _type of model. I really don't understand why she doesn't see how beautiful she is, she's convinced she's really quite plain.

Neema and Draco made eye contact, but Neema quickly looked away. Draco caught sight of me and also looked away. A little, pinkish house elf hesitantly walked up to Neema and offered her a glass of alcohol. The elf said that it was Vodka, but it was flavored to taste like whipped cream, and that there was gingerale and orange slices in the drink. Neema looked at the house elf, up at me, and then took a drink. She proceeded to thank the house elf, but shooed it away before I could tell it to leave. Neema took small, quiet sips while we walked around and spoke to people. She seemed to remember not to speak unless spoken to, or unless I tell her to speak very well, until she reached the beginnings of her third drink. I took the new drink away from her so that she wouldn't make a fool of herself, or of me. She wasn't drunk, but she was becoming buzzed, and I can't have her in public as any less than behaved.

"_Voldie_," She whispered in my ear in the quiet voice she knows I like.

A small smirk found its way onto my face, "Yes, Neema?"

She bit her bottom lip for a second before whispering, "I really need to use the bathroom. May I go?"

I laughed and let go of her, "Of course, Neema, but come straight back."

"Of course," she saw the other people staring at us and added, "my Lord."

I drew in a deep breath; she knew when to be a good girl. The ball obviously held a lot of dancing, but several Death Eaters kept me company while I waited for Neema to return. I started to get suspicious when the minutes started to go into the double digits, but I caught sight of Draco speaking with his father, so I relaxed. Men danced with their women, the house elves served us, and Draco was moderately nervous the whole time; all was well. That is, until I heard a terrified scream coming from a near by corridor. Everyone stopped dancing, the music stopped playing, the house elves even stopped walking around. I slowly turned towards the corridor just in time to hear the scream again; I didn't need to hear it again to know that it's my Neema.

I stormed away from my small group of Death Eaters to go to the corridor when I heard my Neema scream. Only I may make her scream. That's why she's mine. I pointed my wand at the corridor and shouted, "_Lumos maximus!_" A blinding light erupted from the tip of my wand and flooded the corridor, making it impossible to hide in even the furthest, darkest corners. The light, allowing my Neema to break free and run to me, startled the dunce cap attacking her; she hid behind me and pressed her body into mine. She was hyperventilating and dug her nails into my back. She did her best to burry her face into my upper back, but then screamed when Nagini hissed at her. I turned to face her, slid my left arm around her waist, and pulled her into my chest. I hissed at Nagini to remain still; Neema either didn't care, or didn't notice before that Nagini acted as my costume, but she's too shaken up to have Nagini taunt her now.

I pointed my wand at the dunce cap and then pulled my wand towards me, causing him to come flying out of the corridor and next to my feet. I pointed my wand up, forcing him to stand up. A tall, trollish looking young man, probably in his early twenties, looked at me. His hair is black, coarse, and is messy, hopefully from Neema fighting him off. His facial features are prominent in the worst of ways, his teeth are crooked and buck, he is ridiculously hairy, and he stinks to high Hell. I gave him a look that could kill a Basilisk as I spat, "What's your name, boy?"

He gulped and responded, "Flint, Marcus Flint, sir."

Neema shuddered against me when his voice reached her ears, "Why," I spat, "were you in that corridor with _my_ Neema?"

Marcus gulped and stuttered out the beginnings of a lie.

I crucioed him and backed up a foot when he collapsed on the floor. "Don't lie to me boy, answer my question."

He drew in a deep breath, "I… I was walking out of the bathroom across from her… She walked out the same time I did…"

I crucioed him again and angrily hissed, "And _why_ did you think you could touch her?"

He drew in another deep breath, "I don't know—"

I crucioed him again and shouted, "Then why did you touch her?"

"She's beautiful!"

"Do you go around touching every beautiful girl?"

"No—"

I crucioed him again, "Then why Neema?"

"I—I thought she was a Veela—"

I crucioed him again for a good minute before I asked with a calm voice, "Where did you touch her before I brought you out here?" All he could do was pant, so I looked at Neema. I used my wand hand to tilt her head up to look me in the eyes. I stared into her large, scared eyes and whispered, "Where did he touch you?"

She gulped and rasped out, "My—my sides."

"Did he try to do anything else?"

She drew in a deep breath and slowly nodded her head.

"What else?"

"He…He—"

I quietly snapped at her, "Out with it."

In a surprisingly fragile voice, Neema told me, "He tried to take off my costume."

I blinked, "What?"

She gulped and said with a slightly louder voice, "He tried to take off my costume."

"How?"

"His hands…then his teeth. That's when I could get my scream out."

I blinked again, "What?"

She stayed silent.

I squeezed her tighter to me, "He kissed you? Is that why you didn't scream earlier?"

"Ye—yes."

I looked back down at Flint's boy and screamed, "SHE'S MINE!" I laughed as his scream filled the room and his body withered and pulsed like a fish out of water. I took the curse off him when I grew bored with his pain, looked at Bellatrix, and with a flick of my wand I banished him into the wall next to her. "Bellatrix,"

She looked at me with a wild smirk and an insane gleam in her eyes, "Yes, my Lord?"

"Make sure he doesn't leave until it's time to eat breakfast."

"Yes, my Lord!" She speedily walked over to the boy, pulled him up by his hair, and half dragged, half walked him out of the Malfoy's Ballroom and into their dungeon. Every creature except the house elves stared at me, so I cleared my throat and pointed my wand near my Adam's apple,

"The daily lesson has been taught, now go back to your previous activities." Everyone shuffled about, doing their best to go back to dancing or the conversations they were having until Neema screamed. I slipped my wand back behind Nagini's front fangs and held Neema tightly to my body. I looked into her eyes and whispered, "Are you okay?"

She drew in a deep breath and relaxed against my body, "I guess."

I wrapped my left arm around her waist and held her left hand in my right. I slowly started to sway us to the music, "Are you actually distraught, or are you just shaken up?"

Neema rested her head against my shoulder and sighed quietly, "Mostly the latter."

"Why mostly?"

Neema laughed, "I'm going from rapist to rapist."'

I chuckled to help her relax.

She sighed and let me lead the dance, "I wish I was four feet tall, six hundred pounds, and had the face of a squid. Then I'd be safe."

I tapped the knuckles of her hand against the wood of my wand, "Don't say such things, I'll put you through unimaginable torture if you do."

She sighed again, but this time out of annoyance. "You wouldn't like me if I was super fat and ugly."

I grinned, "I wouldn't like you if you were super fat _or_ ugly."

Neema rolled her eyes, "Thank you for the reassurance, Volders."

I laughed, spun her, and brought her back into my arms, "You're welcome, Neemers."

After a long time of just dancing, I sniffed her hair and said, "Thank God you don't smell like him."

"I'd die on the spot if I did."

I laughed, kissed the top of her head, and breathed in her sweet scent. "I will not tolerate you smelling like another, unless that 'another' is me."

She didn't respond.

Her silence made me angry; I stopped our dancing and gently dragged her over to Fenrir. I pushed her into his chest while saying, "Greyback, smell her."

His snarl was devious, but it had traces of lust in it. He gripped Neema's arms tightly and dragged his nose from her neck to her earlobe.

I hissed, "Greyback,"

He immediately looked into my serious eyes, "Yes, my Lord?"

"Smell her for another."

"Surely I shall exclude your scent?"

"Of course."

He nodded his head up and down two times, dropped to his knees. Neema's whole body tensed as he ran his nose from her right knee up to her belly button. Greyback drew in a loud, long breath near her vagina before he stood up and looked me in the eyes; he was still gripping Neema's arms with quite a bit of pressure, "She smells of herself…mostly."

I raised my right brow, "Who else? Not of Flint's boy?"

Greyback's mouth twitched in an effort to suppress a smirk, "Malfoy's boy."

"How strongly?"

"She reeks of him."

Neema pulled her right arm away and slapped him across the face. I immediately pulled Neema into my chest and pointed my wand at Greyback's heart, "Calm down, Greyback." His breathing was heavy and he looked extremely angry, but he didn't move. I looked down at Neema, "When was the last time you had sex with him?"

She didn't look scared, if anything she looked furious. "On the twenty-sixth."

I smirked, "So you listened to my letter?"

"I always do."

"Well, if that is so…" I let go of Neema's arms and slipped the fingers of my left hand in between the fingers of her right hand, "It should be easy enough to replace his smell."

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**A/N: Please review! Let me know if you want the lemon to be in Neema's POV or in Voldie's.**

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**A/N: lolieDOTlolszx: I hope you liked their interactions in this chapter, too. :P I'm glad I didn't scare you away, and I'm also proud of you for not peeing your pants. lol**

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**A/N: scara1: I sent you a private message with my email so you can add me to IM, did you get/notice it? And I'll add details in the next chapter, I promise. **


	30. Freek—A—Leek

**Chapter Thirty: Freek—A—Leek

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**A/N: This chapter is in Voldemort's POV, but chapter thirty-one will go back to Neema's.**

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I'm no fool, I can tell Neema doesn't enjoy me. I can tell that Neema wishes she was doing these things with Draco, wishes that it was Draco leading her up to her room, not me. She's not as scared as before, she's not as horrified as she used to be. I can tell she doesn't actually like it, but she knows she can't stop me. She accepts it now; she has separated her body's desires from her real desires, what her body responds to from who she really is, but tonight, she's who I want her to be. She's my feisty, angry, scared, Neema.

I gently tugged her into her room and softly closed the door behind me. With a single flick of my wand, I turned on her lights, except for the bathroom lights, and hissed at Nagini to slide off of my body. I opened the door again once she was on the floor and closed and locked it once she was out. I turned to find Neema seated on the middle of the foot of her bed. Her hair beautifully cascaded down her shoulders, and she had her arms behind her to give her support. She was leaning slightly backwards, and she had her right leg crossed over her left; she seductively dangled her shoe off her right foot and stared at my body. Like Neema, Malfoy's boy was dedicated to fitness; I couldn't have a sixteen-year-old boy out due me.

She slowly looked over my nude form; Nagini was my only coverage. I subtly flexed while she looked me over. Her face was originally expressionless, but a smirk found its way onto her pretty little face. She looked up into my eyes, "Exercising in your free time now?"

I smirked back, "Thought you liked it."

She playfully lifted and relaxed her brows several times, "I favor toned backs."

I laughed without knowing why and then turned for her. I stretched my arms above my head, bent them at the elbows, and rested my hands on the top of my head to emphasize my newly acquired muscle. She giggled at me, so I looked at her over my right shoulder, "What are you laughing at?"

"You."

"And for what purpose?"

She tilted her head onto her left shoulder after lightly shrugging, "I'm not quite sure."

I sighed and moved the purple armchair from near her closet to several feet in front of her. I made myself comfortable in it and silently stared at her; she stared back at me. I licked my lips at the smooth, silky looking, exposed skin of hers. The winter has deprived her of enough sunlight to maintain her summer tan, forcing her once sun kissed skin to be a light olive. Her classes kept her busy, but she didn't sacrifice her exercise routine; her body is still trim and fit, but her stomach seems more defined. Not in a masculine way, though. I rolled my bottom lip into my mouth before saying, "Take your costume off."

Her body tensed; Neema knew this was coming, but she wished it wouldn't. She gulped and said barely above a whisper, "You'll have to take the charm off me."

I rolled my eyes and waved my left hand, instantly releasing the charm's hold on her costume. Neema drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes for a minute, and slowly stood up. Her hands slightly shook; her two months at Hogwarts gave her a fake sense of safety. Her jaws tensed and her breathing deepened as she took her time with unraveling the realistic snake from her body. Neema was careful to avoid her hair as much as possible while sliding the snake off of her neck and unwinding it from her torso. Just before she got to her hips, I smirked and said, "Hand me the head of your snake."

Neema looked confused, but she didn't question me. I held the head of the fake snake tightly; she immediately understood, sighed, and stepped in four, counter clockwise circles, unraveling the costume off of her lower body. I tossed the snake to the side, watched with greedy eyes while she crossed her arms over her chest, pulled the tube bra up and off of her body and unclasped her odd bra; it fell to the floor, so she kicked it next to her costume and tube bra. She saw me lick my lips, so she rolled her hips as if she was going to belly dance, and slid the garment she used for visual protection off her body, and kicked that over with her other articles of clothing. I drew in a deep breath before growling, "Come here."

Neema gulped and slowly walked in front of me. I tangled my hands in her curly hair and yanked her down to my face. I sucked on her lips, tasted her mouth, and sucked on her tongue. I pulled away for breath, but immediately went back to kissing her. She put her hands on the arms of the chair to keep from falling on top of me while I bit down on her bottom lip until it bled. She squeaked from the pain and cringed when I sucked on her new injury. Her blood tasted like the rest of her: sweet. She glared at me when I pulled away, especially when she saw the faint pink tint on my lips from her blood. I untangled my hands and healed her lip before I shot up and pushed her down on her bed. She looked at me with confusion when I sat back down.

She licked her top teeth with thought before saying, "My… my Lord?"

I smirked, "Yes, my Neema?"

Neema leaned away from me, "Are we engaged in a stare down?"

I laughed and put my hands behind my head for comfort. "No."

"Then…?"

I grinned, "Touch yourself."

She didn't miss a beat, "What?"

"I'm going to watch you pleasure yourself, Neemie."

She glared at me for a long minute.

I sighed with slight annoyance, "Come on, Neemie, or I'll keep you an extra day."

Neema sighed with hate and slowly laid down. I quickly found that I couldn't see her very well, so I magically made the armchair twice its height. She rolled her eyes, bit the inside of her bottom lip, and ran her hands up and down her sides. I sighed with content when Neema started to gently caress her breasts and play with her nipples. A small grown fluttered from her sweet, pink lips as she touched them just right, and then slid her hands down her hips, savoring her curves. She spent a lot of time caressing her hips and outer thighs, but immediately moved on when I growled. Neema drew in a deep breath and opened her legs as if it were her first time: slowly, hesitantly, and nervously. She closed her eyes to avoid looking at me while running her hands against her inner thighs. Neema sighed and ran her right index and middle fingers up and down her slit several times before tracing her wet entrance. She groaned at the feeling of her fingers sliding up to her sensitive clit.

I dug my fingertips into the arms of the armchair, "Spread your legs wider."

Neema responded with a single, quick, labored breath and slid her legs further apart against her silky sheets. She turned her head to the right to completely ignore me and focused solely on her pleasure. I leaned over, putting my chest almost completely into my lap, and stared at what belongs to me. Her pretty, slightly scrunched with pleasure, face, her full breasts, her shapely frame, her smooth skin, and of course, her wet, warm, entrance. I'm never going to give this beautiful creature away. When she turns twenty I will freeze her, make her immortal, too, and I will have her forever. She'll be by my side every day, all day, as long as she didn't become annoying or tried anything stupid, of course. And I won't have to wait months to see her, to feel her, because she will be with me, and I will take her whenever I want, wherever I want.

Neema's breathing became extremely quick and shallow while her hips started to buck; she's close. A grin slowly crept onto my face as I watched her be mere seconds from an orgasm, "Stop."

"Wha—what?" She kept rubbing herself.

I slid off of the chair and shouted, "Stop!"

Neema immediately stopped, rested her right hand on the top of her right thigh, and used her left one to prop herself up. "What?"

I smirked and slowly crawled on top of her. She slowly leaned back to accommodate me, but her eyes gave away her fear and confusion. I smirked and roughly pressed my lips against hers, sharing a sloppy, needy kiss. She groaned as I pressed my body against hers, barely taking enough weight off of her so she could breath. I kissed my way down her strong jaw line to the sweet, soft skin of her neck. Her breath tickled my forehead before I started to nip at her weak spots, forcing small, pleasure filled whimpers to flutter from her sweet lips. I worked on several faint hickeys while putting most of my weight on my right elbow. I slid my left hand down her right side, squeezing her hip and then made a direct line to her aching pussy. She gasped and twitched against me when I tapped my middle finger against her swollen clit. I nibbled on her earlobe, "Do you want to orgasm?"

"Ye—Yes."

I smirked and kissed her on the lips again. I tapped her clit and watched her body jump against mine, "Do you want me to give you an orgasm?"

She glared up at me, "I just want to orgasm."

I faked a look of hurt, "So you don't care who gives it to you?"

"Oh sweet Jesus," she rolled her eyes, "I already went along with _one_ controlling mind game within the last half hour, surely you can spare me this one."

I laughed and kissed her again. And again. And Again. Because she's mine, and I can do that. Her lips are soft, warm, inviting, and they belong to me. Her usual taste was mixed with soft hints of alcohol and someone else, probably Malfoy's boy. What does she even see in him? He's bright, but not a genius. He's weak; he's arrogant for no reason, and rather incompetent as a Death Eater. He's not even the wealthy one, just the inheritor. She must think he's attractive—

My thoughts were brought to an abrupt end; Neema grabbed my aching dick with her right hand much tighter than she should grab anything. I must have lingered in a certain spot for too long, because she whispered with a very serious look in her eyes, "If you do _anything _to hurt him, to take him away from me, I will break off things that will never grow back."

I bit the inside of my bottom lip to keep from whimpering and slapped her with my left hand so she'd let go. She gave me an extra hard squeeze, making me gasp quietly from the pain. I shot her a cold look, "What makes you think I couldn't fix that? I got my youthful body back."

"I'll break it off everyday."

I laughed at her.

She glared at me and growled, "You like my face, Volders?"

I sighed with confusion, "Of course I do, you know that."

Neema raised her brows and then scrunched them with anger; "I'll cut up my face everyday if you hurt him."

"I'll heal you everyday."

"I don't care."

I sighed, rolled my eyes, and rested my body against hers again. "This is starting to make me flaccid."

Neema laughed loudly, "Good."

I glared down at her. Who is she to talk to me this way? She's a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl! I am the Dark Lord! I'm the most powerful wizard in the world! I'm Lord Voldemort! Who is she, a young girl, to talk to me like this? I snarled, "You think you're special, Neema? You think you're special just because I fuck you?"

Neema locked eyes with me; she knew she was in trouble, and she knew she was going to be punished anyway, so why not keep going? Neema whispered in a voice I never heard from her before. It was sexy yet threatening; "I'd have to be for the Darkest, most powerful wizard of all time to constantly take me."

I grinned and raised my right brow, "You don't actually think that you mean anything to me, do you?"

She smirked and mimicked my voice and quoted me like I do to her, "_This is the closet to love I've ever felt._"

I scoffed and bit down on her left shoulder. She immediately cried out from the pain while I cackled, "I said that to get you to open your legs. You're more fun when you're willing."

Neema pushed me off of her and then straddled me. I smirked and folded my hands behind my head while watching her get comfortable. She winked at me, licked her lips, and dug her fake nails into my sides; they're surprisingly sharp, but they are made from magic, so I shouldn't be shocked. I cringed and quietly gasped, but that wasn't enough for her. She dug them into me until I bled, then she started to scratch up and down my sides, and a little bit on my chest. She kissed me tenderly on the lips, and then snapped down on my bottom lip. She laughed when I cried out from surprise and pain. The second she pulled away was the second I slapped her across the face; I smirked at my red handprint, "Enough of this nonsense."

Neema drew in an angry, deep breath and then glared down at me.

"Ride me."

"I don't want to."

I laughed and put my hands on her hips, but she didn't budge easily. I shot her a cold look and growled, "Ride me or I'll kill your father."

Neema glared at me with a hatred I didn't know she possessed; I wasn't serious, her father is much too useful for me to kill off, but she doesn't know that. Neema raised her hips up and scooted a few inches backwards. I used my right hand to position my dick at her entrance; I smirked and slowly rubbed the head of my aching dick up and down her sensitive slit. Neema drew in a deep breath to keep form moaning, but she couldn't stop her moans when I rubbed her clit with the tip of my dick. Her breathing gradually became labored again; I smirked and slapped her clit with my dick. She yelped and looked down at me with fear filled "fuck me" eyes. I laughed and slipped the head of my dick into her warm, tight hole. We groaned in unison while she slowly slid down my length, taking in every last millimeter. I squeezed her hips to help her up and down; she rolled her hips and groaned at the extra pleasure. It took a few minutes for her to find the perfect rhythm, but it was worth the wait. She slid up and down my dick, rolling her hips all the while. She pressed her hands against my chest, rolled her head back, and moaned shamelessly. I dug my fingertips into her hips while helping her up and slamming her down.

"Ahh—Ahh! _Mhm!_"

I smirked, "You like this, Neema?"

She groaned again, "I fuckin' hate you."

I laughed at her and bucked my hips up to meet her, "I asked you if you like _this_," I slammed up into her a few more times; she shouted from the pleasure while her arms started to shake, "not me."

She could barely steady her breathing. Neema looked down at me with half opened eyes, "You know my body too well."

I grinned; damn right I know her body well. It belongs to me; of course I know what it likes. I know what she's into; I know what she likes. I know she secretly _loves_ it rough, and I know when to touch her where and how much pressure to put into my touches. I know she doesn't like top, it gives her too much control, and when it comes to me, she doesn't want to have any control. If she has control in our sexual adventures she'll start hating herself even more, but she looks so good bopping up and down.

I gripped her by the ass, made her stop moving for a minute, and pulled her off of my dick. She looked down at me with confused eyes; this was the second time I stopped her seconds before an orgasm. I smirked, held her steady with my left hand, and grabbed my dick with my right. I pulled it back and slapped her clit with it; her body tensed and she moaned from the feeling. I continued doing this until she couldn't hold herself up. Neema arched her back so low that she ended up pressing her breasts against my chest and wiggling her face into the crook of my neck. She groaned against my skin and occasionally nipped at my shoulder while I slapped her clit. I took my left hand off of her hip, squeezed her ass a few a times, and smiled when I heard her yelp from a spank. I slid my left hand to her entrance and slid my middle finger an inch in. I swirled my finger around while continuing my slaps; she started to twitch her body against me and roll her hips; I couldn't take any more, I rolled her over, sucked on my finger for a moment, and then slid my dick back inside her.

"_Ooohh,_" Neema groaned as her eyes fluttered. I slid my hands from her hips to her knees. I pressed my hips closer to her, driving my dick deeper, and pushed her legs up into a ninety-degree angle. Neema grabbed at her sheets while I rocked back and forth, sliding my dick out and into her as deep as possible. I rubbed my index and middle right fingers near her entrance and rubbed her swollen, sensitive clit with her own wetness. She shuddered at my touch, so I said,

"Don't come yet."

She panted, "I'm—I'm trying," she looked up at me, "_my Lord_."

"_Oh my God, Neema!_" It wasn't so much her words, but the inflection in her voice when she called me her Lord, and the pleasured look on her face that she looked up at me with. It begged me to make her orgasm, it begged me to fuck her silly, so I did. I leaned closer to her and slammed my dick in and out of her. She screamed from the sudden new style, especially when I grabbed her hips, lifted her up, and squeezed her ass. She grabbed at her sheets and moaned while I slammed and slightly rolled my hips; Neema did her best to fight off her orgasm, to prolong it, but she couldn't. I grinded my hips closer to her, somehow grinding her clit just the way she likes it to be touched. She screamed for me, for _me_, because she belongs to me, and she knows it. I slammed my dick as deep as possible, as fast as possible, and as hard as possible for the next minute until my body tensed, I grabbed at her hips like never before, and emptied my seed deep inside of her warm, wet pussy. I didn't bother to pull out, I just collapsed on top of her.

"I can't…" she panted, "breathe…."

I smirked, kissed her, and then rolled us onto our sides. I lifted her left leg and wrapped it around my hip. Neema softly moaned from the feeling while I just drew in a deep breath. I tenderly tangled my right hand into her curly, now sex hair, and said, "You were a very good girl tonight."

Neema laughed lightly and said with tired sarcasm, "I'm glad I could please you."

"Me too," I smirked and kissed her forehead, "And good girls get rewarded."

Neema sighed; she was much too tired to do anything else.

"But I'm very tired, so I will reward you later."

Neema laughed and then asked me, "Will you please pull out? This feels weird."

I rolled my eyes, sighed, and inched my hips back. Neema sighed and then yawned. I silently called a pillow over to us and slid it under her pretty head before I sat up, yanked her top sheet over to us, and covered us. Neema quickly fell into a deep slumber, but she looked cold, even with the rather thick sheet, so I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her against my chest. I sighed; my humping has drained me of more than sperm. I slid my left arm under the pillow, found a comfortable spot for my head, and slightly smiled when she ever so quietly snored and nuzzled her face into my neck. Neema doesn't snore, but she breathes louder than normal when she sleeps. It's still a soft sound, but it is audible.

She's probably dreaming of Draco now, I could check, her mental guard is down, but I'll just let her dream. Neema belongs to me, every last bit of her is mine, even the things I don't really like, it's all mine, but I don't care for her dreams. Once she's twenty I'm going to freeze her, Hell, I might freeze her after my Death Eaters infiltrate Hogwarts. I suppose she could finish up her education, it'll be her seventh year once I have control over Hogwarts, anyway.

I'm going to freeze her soon; she can't get married until she becomes of age, and I'll get her before then. I'll have Snape or her father brew me an aging potion so she can look twenty, look the same age I look, and then I'll freeze her. I'll have to do it in her seventh year, to do it earlier would raise suspicion, and I can't give myself away, I can't ruin the little chance of Draco murdering Dumbledore, over something as dim and honestly unnecessary as this.

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**A/N: Please review!**

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**A/N: It's three in the morning, Saturday morning. I won't be home tonight, and tomorrow I will also be busy. This monday I start school, so I can't stay up super late writing anymore. I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I'll hopefully be able to update every weekend. I love this story, so I'm not going to abandon it.**


	31. That's What's Up

**Chapter Thirty-One: That's What's Up

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**

I refused to go home for Christmas this year. I begged Snape to make a long-term assignment, I even cried at his feet. Draco was with me during this; he and Snape are no longer fond of each other. Draco went from being arrogant to being a nervous wreck. Snape continuously offers to help him, but he always refuses. I don't see why, he could use some help; there's only so much I can do for him. I did my best to guarantee his safety when I went home on Halloween; you think I wanted to do any of that? It took every ounce of discipline in my body to run to Voldemort instead of Draco when that nasty troll boy attacked me. I had to pretend that Voldemort was actually Draco; he just drank some Polyjuice, it was Draco. I knew it was Voldemort, but it kept me from crying. I got used to being away from him, being with someone who actually cared about me, being somewhere safe.

Voldemort was less than pleased, to say the least. He burned both Snape's and Draco's Dark Marks when he heard of the assignment. Luckily Snape has been burned before, so he had vial after vial after vial of relief potion for it. Snape and Draco sat in the potion closet, downing them for an hour, maybe more. I sat on the top of the closest desk with my knees in my chest, my arms around my legs, and rocked back and forth in an attempt to calm down. I was ready to rocket off the desk by the time they came out of the closet. Both were dripping sweat and panting, something I probably would have wiggled my brows at and giggled if I didn't know what was happening. Draco ripped his shirt to get to his Dark Mark; a thin layer of slime was over it, probably a gel Snape invented, and it was bright red, as if it was just carved into his flesh. I bawled the second I saw him and squeezed my legs tighter, "I should just go!"

"No," Draco sighed and slowly walked over to me, "Don't go."

I pressed my face against my knees and sobbed out, "He's—he's just going to hurt you if I stay!"

"I don't care,"

I didn't look up at him; I kept my face right where it was. Draco sat down next to me on the desk and weakly snaked his right arm around me, pulling me against him. I nuzzled my face into his chest and slowly let go of my legs; we needed each other. A long time passed before I thought aloud, "Who have we become?"

Snape sat down at his desk and stared with curious eyes while Draco squeezed me, "What do you mean?"

I sighed while my tears came to a slow halt, "Before this year I was the brave one and you were some asshole. A very cute one, though."

Draco laughed and wrapped his left arm around me, too. "You're still brave."

I laughed and rolled my eyes, "I let him burn you _and _Professor Snape so that _I_ wouldn't have to be with him."

"I'd rather be burned than have you with him."

I snuggled closer to him, "You're just saying that."

"No," he smirked, "When I tell you I enjoy your muggle music, that's when I'm just saying something."

"Oh please, you sing along, too."

Draco kissed the top of my head, "Because it gets stuck in my head, like that stupid song by that tall girl."

I was silent for a minute, "Taylor Swift?"

"Is that her name?"

"I don't know, what song are you thinking of?"

"If I knew the title I would have said so in the beginning."

I sighed, "I guess we haven't really changed."

Draco fought off a laugh, "Are you calling me an asshole then?"

I smirked, "A cute one, though."

Snape chuckled because of our odd argument while Draco nuzzled his face into my soft hair. He drew in a deep breath before sighing, "You always smell good."

"Thank you."

He laughed and smelt my hair again.

I ran my right hand up his chest, up his neck, and through his thinning hair. He wasn't balding, but the stresses of his advanced classes, which he's slacking in, and his Death Eater duties are taking their toll. I ruffled his neatly combed hair and sighed as I felt it thicken again. Draco placed his right cheek on top of my head and looked at Snape, "Why does my hair thicken whenever she does that?"

Snape's lips curled into something I've never seen on him before: a small smile. "Because you two share the strongest magic in the world."

I stayed silent and Draco stared at Snape for answers.

"True love." Snape neatly stacked several pieces of parchment on his large desk, "Muggles experience true love as well, but the magic blood in wizards and witches show that love; wizarding love can literally heal the worst of wounds, physical or mental, or both."

"I…"

I snuggled even closer to Draco; "It means that I love you, and that I want to spend the rest of my natural life with you."

Draco was silent and Snape stared at us, wondering if Draco would just tell me that he loves me. He's said it before, but I usually say it first, and I'd be lying if I said that didn't bother me. Draco used his left hand to tilt my face up to his; he brushed the tip of his nose against the tip of mine, "I want to spend the rest of my natural life with you, too. I love you more than I can express."

I smiled, half with happiness, half with worry. Draco kissed the tip of my nose before whispering, "It hurts me more for us to be apart than to suffer his burning."

I smiled with happiness.

Draco's tired, over worked, grey eyes twinkled when we locked gazes, "I remember how we felt sittin' by the water, and every time I look at you it's like the first time. I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter, she is the best thing that has ever been mine."

Tears slowly seeped out of my eyes and streaked my cheeks. I rasped out in a very quiet voice, "That's Taylor Swift."

"I know," he smiled, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, "you played it for hours on end in the Room of Requirement last night. We even fell asleep to it."

"It was off in the morning."

Draco rolled his eyes and then winked, "Because I turned it off when I woke up."

I giggled and kissed the tip of his nose. He used his right hand to gently cup my face, and he used his thumb to rub away a few of my tears. I sighed softly and whispered, "Funny how well that song fits us."

Draco laughed, "Yea…" His eyes twinkled again, "I'm flattered that I made you into a rebel, little Miss Gryffindor."

I sighed and playfully rolled my eyes before whispering, "We should just run away together."

Draco smiled weakly, but it was still a genuine smile. "No."

"Why not?"

"First of all," he smirked as if he was blessed with knowledge no other mortal could hope for, "he'd find us wherever we went, we'd have to live on the run and in hiding our whole lives."

"I wouldn't mind—"

"I would." He squeezed me to him; "I want a happy life with you, one where we can live freely, one where we won't have to worry about our children."

I cried quietly and without shame, "You want kids?"

"Of course," he sighed, "I hated being an only child, so we'll have to have a lot of kids. It's a very lonely life, you know, as an only child."

I smiled, "My parents had the least amount of kids in the family, three."

"Even the small Russian part of you?"

"Yeah, even the original Saravia's had more kids, like five per married couple."

"Where does the Russian even come in?"

"Rather last minute," I chuckled, "My grandfather is half Russian, his father was Russian, and his mother was Greek, that's how he met my fathers mother, my grandmother, in Greece."

"Oh, but you're mainly what?"

"Greek and Italian."

He rolled his eyes, "Those are the same ethnicities at this point."

I laughed and recited a saying my father taught me when I was very young and visiting Italy with him; I didn't know then he was doing Death Eater things, waiting for Voldemort's return. "_Same face, same race._"

Draco sighed.

I sighed, "We should run away, just long enough for Potter to slay the son of a bitch."

Draco quietly chuckled, "If we run away it's like we're ashamed, and I'm not ashamed of loving you."

I drew in a deep breath and rested my head on his right shoulder. "You're wonderful."

He gently played with my hair, "I'm glad he ruined our lives."

I laughed, "Why?"

"Because it made us like this."

"Terrified and miserable?"

Draco laughed loudly for a good minute before replying, "No, in love."

Snape ignored us, loudly working on papers, doing his best to give us our moment as alone as possible. Draco slowly laid us down on our sides; his long legs hung off the edge of the table, but my short ones were fine. I brushed the tip of my nose against his a few times and smiled with half closed, happy eyes. "Once this war is over, can we live in Greece?"

"Sure," his breath tickled my face, "but why?"

I gently shrugged, "Because it's warm and pretty and I have a lot of family there, plus I speak Greek fluently."

Draco laughed, "I don't. I only speak English."

I rolled my eyes, "I thought you knew German, too."

"Barely."

I laughed, "Besides English, I speak Greek, Italian, Arabic, Spanish, and I'm starting to understand Nagini, why do you only know one language?"

Draco smirked, "One _and a quarter_ languages."

I laughed again, "Okay, why do you only know," I wiggled my brows, "_one and a quarter_ languages?"

"Because I never planned on leaving the U.K."

I sighed, "I guess I should start teaching you Greek then."

He held me as tightly as he could without hurting me, "I can learn it later. When we're actually moving there."

"You should know some before you go. I can't speak for all Greeks, but the ones in my family, and their friends that I've met, absolutely love playing tricks on tourists and those who don't speak Greek well."

Draco shrugged, "I'll have you."

I sighed and kissed him lightly on the lips once.

* * *

Snape spent most of his time brewing more relief potions and creating more gels. Voldemort would sporadically burn their marks; yesterday I went with Draco to retrieve some relief potions. Snape handed me a black and red envelope while I was down there; Volders sent me a howler. The second I touched it was the second it opened,

"THERE IS NO VACATION FOR EASTER THIS YEAR. DID YOU KNOW THAT? I WON'T SEE YOU AGAIN UNTIL THE SCHOOL YEAR IS UP. DON'T LET THE EXTRA TIME WITHOUT ME FOOL YOU, NEEMA, YOU BELONG TO ME!" The howler almost rubbed against my face, I'm sure it would have slapped me if I didn't back up in time. "I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YOU THINK YOU HAVE WITH DRACO, YOU'RE MINE! YOU TWO MAY BE ALONE NOW, BUT I'LL HAVE YOU BOTH SOON ENOUGH, I JUST MAY KILL THE BOY IF HE TOUCHES YOU! YOU ARE MINE TO TOUCH! YOU ARE MINE TO FUCK! YOU HEAR ME, NEEMA? I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL BURN HIS GOD DAMN ARM OFF IF YOU DON'T RESPOND WITHIN AN HOUR OF HEARING THIS!"

It exploded as soon as it was down screaming at me. I bit the inside of my bottom lip and took a piece of parchment off of Snape's desk, but then I heard a squeak from a loose floorboard that's in the center of the room; I immediately looked over my shoulder. A very confused, very irritated looking Harry Potter was standing ten feet away from me. I drew in a deep breath, "Do you need something, Harry?"

He grinned his teeth, "Professor Slughorn needed a bat wing from Snape. What are you doing down here anyway, who was that howler from?"

I flashed him a fake smile filled with annoyance, "Don't worry about it, and don't worry about it." I sat down at Snape's desk and wrote, "Dearest Voldemort," before looking back up at Harry. "Snape is in his potions closet."

Harry started to walk over to it.

"Just wait for him to come out. It shouldn't be too long."

"_It?_"

"It."

Harry stared at me as if my secrets were going to fly out my ears.

I ignored him and continued my letter to Voldemort. I told him that whatever he does to Draco I would do to myself. If he kills Draco, I will kill myself; our relationshit has nothing to do with Draco. I made sure I didn't give it a rude tone or added anything he could grill me on before I stuffed it in a black envelope and watched it disappear. Harry stared at the envelope disappearing, too; both of us missed Snape and Draco's exit from Snape's personal potions closet. Draco wrapped his arms around me and kissed the part of my neck closest to my shoulder, "You are _mine_ and I am yours."

I sighed.

Harry stared at us while talking to Snape.

Draco whispered, "Don't worry about him." He kissed me again, "We won't make our parents mistakes."

I smiled and turned my head to look at him, "But we've got bills to pay."

He smiled, too, "And we've got nothing figured out."

I kissed him lightly before whispering, "When it was hard to take…"

Draco looked at me with half open, stressed but happy eyes. He tenderly cupped my face, "_This_ is what I thought about."

"You are the best thing that has ever been mine."

He kissed me on the forehead, "Likewise."

I laughed and closed my eyes for thirty seconds.

"You know I got I got I got I got your back."

I laughed again and slowly stood up. Draco held my hand and gave it the occasional squeeze while we walked out of the room. We walked by Snape in silence, so I looked at Snape from the door and said, "Thank you, professor, for everything."

Harry had an angry version of confusion on his face.

Snape just nodded.

**

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**

I had to make copies of all my notes and whatnot about the DADA assignment and send it all to Voldemort. His letters gradually grew less angry; hopefully my threat of suicide made him back off Draco. I told him that Potter almost caught us, he wrote a long line of "ha"s and said that Harry will be dead soon enough. I smirked to myself, even if Harry does die in the midst of all this, I'll kill this bastard. There is no chance in Hell that he's going to take away my wonderful life with Draco. Even if Draco falls out of love with me, even if I somehow end up hating Draco, he's not going to hurt Draco.

I laughed for at least an hour with Draco when I sent a part of our DADA project to Volders, my patronus. My animagus may be a little whittle kitty cat, but my patronus is a tigress, and a bad ass one at that. Voldemort sent me a very angry letter about it; apparently it tried to attack him. How very strange.

Voldemort started to burn Draco every once in a while; I knew he was doing it to punish me, and it was often during parts of the day he would usually take me. I sighed and rubbed the relief gel into Draco's arm and mumbled, "I think I'm going to be a hooker for a little bit."

"What?"

I laughed, "I'll send him a dirty letter, it'll calm him down, make him nice and smug."

Draco raised his right brow at me.

I sighed again, "If I sell out a bit he'll leave you alone."

"Neema—"

"I don't like it either, but it works. How lenient was he with you after Halloween?"

Draco sighed, "Unusually."

"You see?" I smirked playfully, "Me being a whore makes it so you can be a tad bit relaxed."

Draco laughed, "Yes, I'm usually quite relaxed—"

"You know what I mean."

Draco just smirked.

After I rubbed the gel into his arm and waited for it to dry, we went up to the ROR so he could practice with the Vanishing Cabinet. He hasn't failed at this at all in the last two months. Every bird he sent came back, he even upgraded to stray animals he found outside, and they came back perfectly fine. However, when Snape reminded him that he has to do more than just bring the Death Eaters, he became extremely upset. He attempted killing a few animals, but I always stopped him. He would shout at me, become almost violent with me, but Draco is not a murder, and he's not physically abusive. Draco often is very rude with people, and his "friendship" with Crabbe and Goyle is more of an emotional abuse outlet than anything friendly, but he isn't actually a bad person.

If anything, he's a victim of circumstance. If his father wasn't a Death Eater I doubt he'd be so cruel and rude with other people. He often strived to meet his father's standards, to win his favor, to receive his approval. He only got any of that half of the time, but he never gave up on it. On one hand, I think that he shouldn't be so rude, so mean, my father is a Death Eater, too, and I'm not like that. On the other hand, my father always openly loved me. My parent's love is unconditional, my father gave us all tough love, but it was unconditional nonetheless. Draco's father almost makes him earn his love; he loves Draco, there's no doubt about that, but he doesn't often show it, at least, not in public, or too much in front of others.

Draco's been bouncing ideas off of me like crazy. The necklace was a complete disaster, and the poisoned wine failed, too. After a long talk, I told him that the only way to kill Dumbledore was going to be with his wand, and I told him that he couldn't do that.

He threw down his wand and shouted, "Why don't you believe in me?"

I gulped and didn't move from my usual seat on top of the desk near the Vanishing Cabinet. "I do believe in you."

He shouted again, "If you believed in me you'd believe that I could kill him!"

I slowly shook my head from left to right, "If I believed in you, I'd believe that we'd find a way out of this, a way not to become what we hate so dearly. And I do believe in you, and I do believe we can do that."

"And how?" He didn't move, he just kept shouting and clenched his fists, "How do you suppose we do that?"

I whispered, "I don't know."

Draco threw his arms up, "Then I'll just have to kill him, won't I?"

I slid off the table and slowly approached him, but he moved away from me. We engaged into a sissy, hand-slapping fight, while we shouted at each other over what could be done. We somehow ended up in the Vanishing Cabinet; Draco has been practicing the vanishing charm this whole hour; we he grabbed my wand to retrieve his, he didn't say "Accio."

Our world violently spun around us; I wrapped my arms around him with fright, and he wrapped his arms around me to protect me. We landed with a loud thud in the sister cabinet in Borgin and Burke's. The door squeakily swung open, revealing us to Greyback, Bellatrix, and Carrow. They were at the counter, no doubt intimidating the old, dirty looking man behind the counter. Greyback and Carrow smirked to each other; Voldemort will hear about this, I'm sure of it. It looks like Draco and I were snogging in the cabinet. Our hair is all messed up and we're breathless.

Bellatrix looked at us, "Neema."

I looked at her, "Bellatrix."

Bellatrix sneered at me, "_Neema._"

I sneered back, "_Bellatrix._"

She glared at me, "_Neeee mah._"

I did my best not to laugh and glare back, "_Bell auh trix._"

Draco pressed his lips together in a cute smirk and whispered, "_Draco._"

I couldn't help but to laugh, too. The three Death Eaters and the dirty old man stared at us, and we stared back. After a long, awkward minute, Draco slowly closed the squeaky door of the twin cabinet, putting us in the dark. I laughed and then whispered, "Well, now we know you're capable of sending people."

Draco held me tightly and gripped my wand in his right hand. "Lets hope I'm capable of sending them back."

I drew in a deep breath and squeezed my eyes closed the same time he did. Draco put all his being into successfully brings us back to Hogwarts, and we came back in once piece. We fell out of the Vanishing Cabinet in the ROR, looked around at the room, and laughed for no reason. We were so happy to not only be back, but we were happy to be back in once piece. I crawled on top of Draco and kissed him with a passion I never used before. It was filled with all my love and all my trust in him. He did it, he successfully sent and brought people back.

Draco kissed me back in the same way; he couldn't believe he did that, he couldn't believe he actually accomplished that. He's now accomplished in Occulmency, and he can do a lot of non-verbal spells and blocking of spells, but he was still shocked that he could perform the vanishing charm. We could have easily made love right there and then, but our feelings were beyond that. We kissed and we felt each other, but no clothing was removed or even moved to the side. This moment called for something more, something more special: real intimacy.

**

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**

It's the beginning of March now; we're in the library and I'm tutoring Draco in Transfiguration. Exams are just around the corner, and his Death Eater duties have distracted him from his education. The Transfiguration exam will be short, but it will be worth a large chunk of our grade, and it will be a serious task. We're supposed to be able to conjure up food from air, something that only very powerful magical folk can do. McGonagall has been working us to the bone to teach us the way to do this, and almost everyone can do it by now, but Draco hasn't been practicing.

He slammed his wand down on the library table and groaned, "Why do we even have to do this?"

I refrained from sighing with frustration, "Because we live in dark times—"

Draco scoffed, "You think I've forgotten that—?"

I groaned and rolled my eyes, "The point is to make sure we can do things, if things actually becoming horrifyingly terrible."

"But we're Purebloods, if he wins we'll be—"

"And if he loses who knows what will happen to us, to our families? It's a terrible thing either way, so just focus on the God damn spell, okay?"

Draco smirked, looked at me out of the corners of his eyes, and whined, "_Oh kaayyeee_"

I couldn't help my laughter. I sat back down and made myself comfortable in the library chair. Draco sat down, picked up his wand, and conjured up a few small, not appetizing bananas. I smirked while looking at them, "Those don't look very appetizing."

Draco breathed out of his nose loudly, "It's supposed to be edible, not appetizing."

"Wouldn't you like it to be—"

He rolled his eyes and cut me off, "If I ever actually _have to _use this damn spell, then I don't give a damn if it's actually appetizing or not. Food is food."

I laughed at him again, "You're fun to annoy."

"As are you."

"Good thing we're in love, or I'd punch you in the face."

Draco laugh, "Does that mean I have to give you back that thong?"

I laughed again, "I forgot you had that."

He smirked rather deviously, looked at med, and then wiggled his brows, "It's quite the cute article of clothing."

I smirked and crossed my arms across my chest. "It's _cute?_"

Harry and Ron walked by us, gave us a cold look, and then sat down three tables to the right. Draco smirked and said louder than he usually speaks, "Yes, Neema, that thong you let me keep is cute, but I think it is very sexy, so I will not be giving it back to you any time soon."

Harry and Ron's eyes grew. They angrily whispered to each other and glared at us a few times. What was I still doing with Draco, and why wouldn't I tell him who was sending me those letters? I'm a member of Dumbledore's Army, I distracted a Death Eater from killing Harry at the Department of Mysteries, I even sit down near him at the Slug Club meetings, what was I doing dating a Malfoy? Of all people, of all the boys who are interested in me, I'm with Draco. You think they'd get over it already; it's been a damn long time that we've been dating.

I rolled my eyes and responded with the same volume, "I'm glad you like it, Draco, because it is one of my favorite thongs. It's quite the cute, frilly, stringy article of clothing. It matches the bra I'm wearing right now."

Draco chuckled before practically shouting, "Is that so, Neemers? Perhaps I could see the bra you're wearing now, make sure it actually matches that thong?"

I laughed into my left shoulder before responding, "I'm not much of an exhibitionist, maybe later."

Draco's grin touched his ears, "But what about that time on my balcony?"

I blushed, "I said _much of_, not completely against it."

Ron and Harry were red with embarrassment and anger. We were having sex, too? Hah. Were these boys completely cut off from the rest of the world? The whole school knows about us.

"But the library would be fun."

The library was practically empty, "Not with all these people in it."

Draco laughed, "That's what would make it so fun."

I blushed even more, "I don't know, Draco."

"You like table sex, anyway—"

"She said no, Malfoy!" Draco and I turned our heads to see Harry glaring at him. I did my best not to laugh, but Draco didn't find it quite as amusing.

"Was I talking to you, Pothead?"

"What does that even mean?" I whispered, "I doubt he even knows what weed is—"

Draco snapped at me, "It's just an insult."

I smirked and purred, "Oh, being aggressive with me, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco smirked, "I might be."

Harry yelled again, "Your dad's an asshat and deserves Azkaban!"

Draco's body immediately tensed. He shot up and was going to storm over to Harry, probably throttle him. Ron looked amused, like he was anticipating, hoping for this fight for a long time. Harry shot up and drew his wand from his right robe pocket; Draco did the same. I shot up and leaned over the table. I tugged at Draco's Slytherin tie and kissed him on the lips. Draco dropped his wand, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me over the table. I'm not quite sure how he got me seated in front of him with him in between my legs, but I didn't really mind. I kissed him, groaned when he nibbled on my lip, and then pulled away. "Lets go somewhere else."

Draco nodded feverishly, backed up, and picked up his wand. He pocketed his wand and then slung me over his shoulder. I yelped from the movement and giggled as he walked away. He made eye contact with Harry and Ron, so he spanked me once. I tensed and giggled, then waved good-bye to my fellow Gryffindors.

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**A/N: Okay, so I woke up rather early to write this chapter and tried to make it a somewhat long chapter since I don't know when I can update again. I couldn't leave ya'll hanging with Volders. :] ****So please review!**** I'm now off to finish up my pre-school things and go to my last summer party.

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**A/N: FredsForeverFanGirl: They're not running away, at least, not yet, and not for that exact reason. :]

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**A/N: Scara1: You're awesome. :]

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**A/N: Cass: Thank you for reading and reviewing my one shot, I appreciate it greatly. You all should go do the same! :D**


	32. Circle the Drain

**Chapter Thirty-Two: ****Circle the Drain**

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**A/N: My first week of school has been pretty amazing. Oh the joys of being an upperclassman and no longer having the tedious courses that I loathe. Yay for the courses that I've been looking forward to for years! **

**I am including a grammar lesson/experience with a girl in my English class. I'm not quite sure **_**why **_**she's in my English class, since she's a total idiot and this is the absolute highest level possible for my year. Anyway, I hope you find it more amusing that I did experiencing it. :]**

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Harry and Ron have become extremely cold towards me. Hermione is no longer as fun of a fellow student, but honestly, I think it's because she's so stressed. She doesn't like Draco, at all, and I don't blame her, but she's not judging our relationship. I don't ever hear her talk about it, and I've never heard a rumor come from her, either. Ginny is hostile with me on and off, I'm not quite sure if it's because I'm dating Draco or not. Neville has been surprisingly rude to me; who would have thought that _Neville_ has a mean streak? Not me, that's for sure.

I'm not quite sure who was horrified more, Neville or I, when Professor O'Neill, the English professor, assigned me as Neville's tutor. I don't like tutoring anyone, I barely like tutoring Draco, and that's just because I'm in love with him. Besides, Draco is about as bright as I am; he's more intelligent in some areas, as am I in other areas. Neville, on the other hand, bless his soul, is not as fast as Draco or me. Neville needs to be taught something extremely thoroughly before he understands it enough for application. Tonight, Neville and I are in Professor O'Neil's room; the common room is much too crowded for any effective tutoring.

I tapped the end of my quill – it's dry and inkless – against the top of my desk while Neville opened the door to the classroom. I didn't bother looking up at him, not even when he loudly sighed to signal his dismay. I don't want to be here either, but I'm sucking it up and doing it anyway. It's called growing up, and apparently Neville doesn't want to try it in this situation. "How long is this session going to be?"

Neville plopped down on the chair opposite of me and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Depends."

"On what?"

I flashed him a small sneer, "How fast you can catch on."

He smiled sarcastically at me and sighed.

I refrained from saying anything rude and unrolled a piece of parchment for him. I slowly pushed it closer to him along with a capped inkbottle and the quill I was tapping. Neville looked at the objects I passed him and then up at me, "What is this for?"

"For you to take notes."

"I've been taking notes."

"And yet you didn't bring a damn thing here tonight."

He sighed and uncapped the inkbottle. Neville dipped my quill into my ink before asking, "What shall be my first note?"

"The spelling difference on _definitely_ and _defiantly_."

He just looked at me.

"Would you like to know what trick I use?"

"Sure."

I eyed the parchment, so he situated his writing hand, his right hand, so he could write down a few notes. "I split up the word into de-fin-it-ely. As if something needs defining, and only Ely can do it."

Neville bursted with laughter, "Are you serious?"

I glared at him, half seriously, half playfully, "Yes, because it works."

Neville chuckled and wrote down my trick. "And for defiantly?"

"De-fi-ant-ly, as if there are ants around, and Lee must defy them."

Neville laughed again, but then wrote down my trick.

When he was done writing, I said, "We have to go over the difference between then and than, too."

He wrote down "then =" and then looked up at me, "Then is for comparison?"

"No, then is for time. _Than_ is for comparison."

Neville nodded and then wrote that down. When I saw he was done writing, I said, "Here's an example: Susan is going to go to Carrie's house, and _then_ she is going to go home."

He wrote it down.

"Harry is way cooler _than_ Voldemort."

Neville smiled, "Heck yes."

I laughed inwardly and smiled back.

Neville looked up at me, "And how about affect and effect? I can never remember which is which."

"Affect is to…" I took a minute to think up an explanation that wouldn't be confusing, "To have an _affect_ on something is to make a difference. If you have affect in your sentence, try replacing it with 'cause' to make sure it still makes sense. If it doesn't make sense that way, then you're probably using it incorrectly."

"So affect is to make a difference?"

"Yes."

He wrote that down before making the side note of replacing the word with cause. Neville looked up at me, "And effect?"

"An _effect_ is the result of an action."

Neville wrote that down.

"The letter 'a' comes before the letter 'e', and an affect comes before an effect. That's a good way to remember their difference, too."

"Thanks." Neville mumbled and wrote that down, too. When he was done making notes on affect and effect, I asked,

"Do you have troubles with who and whom?"

Neville nodded.

"Whom is the object of the sentence."

He looked a little confused, "The object of the sentence is the noun or the noun phrase governed by a transitive verb or by a preposition. Like who invited _whom_ to the party?"

Neville nodded and wrote my example sentence down. He circled whom and drew an arrow to the side of the parchment, explaining to himself sentence objects. He then drew a box around invited and explained to himself how it acts as the transitive verb. Neville looked up at me and then asked, "What about the subject of the sentence?"

"The subject of a sentence is the noun phrase that is the, or functions as one of the main parts of the clause. It's the part which the rest of the sentence is predicated."

He looked up with slightly confused eyes.

"Predicated is the part of a sentence that has the verb and the…uhm… It has the verb and it states something about the subject. Like Chelsea went shopping."

"It's the went shopping part?"

"Yes."

"Thanks."

I smiled, "You're welcome."

Neville smiled back, but it was a very small smile.

"What about apostrophes? I often have trouble knowing when to use one."

I smirked, "When in doubt, don't use one."

Neville laughed.

"An apostrophe is used to show a conjunction or possession. It is turns into it's, do not turns into don't."

"And for possession?"

"'Susan's dips' is an example. Dips doesn't have an apostrophe, but Susan does because it's _her_ dips."

Neville nodded and made a note of the difference. He looked up at me, his cheeks pink with embarrassment, "And the 'there'—"

"T-h-e-r-e is a place, like Susan is going _there_ for shoes."

He nodded and wrote it down.

"T-h-e-i-r shows ownership. That is _their _shoe shop."

Neville wrote that down.

"T-h-e-y apostrophe r-e is 'they' and 'are' put together. _They're_ going to the store for shoes."

Neville smirked and looked up at me after writing down the final sentence, "Do you like shoes, Neema?"

I smiled, "Quite a bit, actually."

"I wouldn't have been able to guess."

I laughed, causing Neville to laugh. After laughing for a minute, I sighed and then asked him, "Do you have any other questions?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "O'Neil was talking about colloquial versus academic language, and I wasn't sure what he was talking about at all."

"Colloquial speech is the way you talk usually. Like when you're talking to your friends and you use the words funny, stupid, or smart. Academic language is like humorous, unintelligent, or intellectual."

"Could you give me an example sentence for both?"

"Sure…" I thought about it for a minute, "Did you ever play any games with a ball when you were younger?"

"Yeah, o'course."

"So…colloquial language would be, 'Hey, dude! Pass me the ball!"

Neville wrote that down and drew an arrow up to colloquial.

"And academic would be, 'Excuse me, peer, will you please elevate the ball in my direction?'"

Neville laughed and wrote that down, too. I explained to him several more concepts from class involving vocabulary he didn't quite understand, and the parts of a sentence he was too embarrass to ask about. We were almost done with the tutoring session when loud explosions banged around the corridors, sending painful sound waves and large chunks of stone everywhere. I shot up and gripped my wand in my right hand. Neville shot up, too, and gripped his wand in his right hand his parchment in his left hand. He looked at me with worry and confusion, "What's going on?"

I looked at him and lied, "I—I don't know." I power walked to the door, squeezed my eyes shut, held my breath, and said a quick, silent prayer. I then looked at Neville and said, "Grab the stuff off of the table and go back to Gryffindor House. Get Ron and Hermione and Harry and the rest of the DA."

Neville didn't question me; he gulped, nodded, and replied, "Okay, where will you be?"

I gulped and lied again, "I'm going to rally up the nearest professors."

"Okay. Should we meet somewhere?"

I was on a roll, "We'll probably end up in the Great Hall, it seems like the best place to hold a battle here."

He nodded again, "Okay."

I gulped, wrapped my left hand around the door handle, and then looked at Neville again, "Neville."

"What?"

"I hope you don't think poorly of me for loving. One day you'll fall in love, too, and you'll find you don't give a damn about their faults, because it's a part of them, and you love them."

Neville sighed angrily, "Why are we wasting time—"

"I have been rapped all summer and occasionally during the year. Don't ask why or how or who or anything like that, okay? It's too long of a story, but Draco was there for me, and we just fell in love. I'm still the same spunky girl from our active DA days, but I'm in a terrible situation, so please, don't think poorly of me. Please," I almost begged, "Don't think poorly of me, and don't let me be slandered." I dashed out of the room before Neville could question me. I ran down the corridor and towards the Astronomy Tower while Neville ran up the corridor towards the Gryffindor Tower. We ran the opposite directions in order to get to the appropriate staircases.

Terrible things are happening tonight, but I couldn't get the image of Draco shattering his soul out of my mind. The few Death Eaters I did come across didn't harm me, they know who I am. Which one of these cretins is stupid enough to attack not only the daughter of a very powerful, very important Death Eater, but the lover of their master, Voldemort? None; Bellatrix is definitely crazy enough to give it a go, but she's not stupid. She's not going to waste this night on torturing me.

Adrenaline pumped through my body like never before. I could feel my blood boiling throughout my body as my muscles throbbed, but they didn't give out or cramp. Every ounce of me felt the urgency and the need to get to Draco as fast as possible. A few Death Eaters were in front of me, but I easily ran past them. I stumbled up the staircase because of the almost unnatural speed I was running, but I got there just as Draco choked out, "If I don't, he'll kill me."

I bent over and I rested my hands just above my knees while attempting to breathe at a normal rate again. Dumbledore smiled at me and said, "Good evening, miss Saravia."

I panted and waved, "Good," I panted again, "evening, Headmaster."

"And why, may I ask, are you here tonight?"

I slowly stood up straight and placed my hands on the back of my neck, "For Draco, and you?"

Draco just about gave himself whiplash from looking at Dumbledore and then at me.

"I just came back from a cave, perhaps you know of it? The cave with Tom's necklace?"

My breathing slowly became normal again; "He doesn't really tell me about his immortality except to threaten me with it."

Dumbledore made a clicking noise, "That's too bad, Neema, I'm sure you could have helped quite a bit if he did."

"Which is why he would never tell her about them!" Bellatrix partially shouted, partially cackled. Her, Yaxley, Carrow, and Greyback waltzed up the steps and past me. She sneered at me, "How such an amazing man could have such a terrible child is beyond me. A blood traitor," she spat, "Just as filthy as your mudblood friends."

"Oh Bellatrix," Dumbledore sighed, "It's so nice to see you again."

Bellatrix cackled and then looked at Draco, "Come on, Draco, you've got him cornered, and I doubt your traitor girlfriend is going to stop you."

I glared at Bellatrix and clenched my fists at a strength just below snapping my wand.

Draco gulped and was about to talk, but then I said, "Don't do it."

Yaxley sighed, "You've done a very good job, Draco, you've got him cornered and wandless. Just get it over with."

I gulped and walked up behind Draco. I pushed my way in between Bellatrix and Greyback and tenderly put my hands on Draco's shoulders. He tensed under my touch; I stood on my tiptoes and whispered lovingly, "You really don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do!" he cried out.

"We have other options. We could run away with Dumbledore's protection—"

Bellatrix cackled, "A useless old man like this? About to die? He can't give you any—"

I slung my right arm out and blew Bellatrix into the wall with a nonverbal spell I learned in the DA last year. I smirked and shouted, "God, that felt good!"

Bellatrix shot up and shouted, "How dare you—"

"How dare you!" I shouted and glared at her, "I wasn't even talking to you! You will answer when you are the one being asked! For once in my life, Lestrange, stay the _fuck_ out of my business!"

Bellatrix quickly became red in the face, but she remained silent. Draco was chuckling nervously, "You never did like her, huh?"

I kissed his neck, "She's a total bitch and I don't like her one bit. I'm sorry, I know she's your aunt, but I think she's horrid." I gently squeezed Draco's shoulder and let my cool breath absorb into the nape of his neck for a long minute before Snape entered the scene. He looked at us, smirked at Bellatrix, and then stood to Draco's left.

Snape looked at Draco, "Are you going to do it?"

Draco silently cried, gulped, and slowly lowered his quivering arm.

Dumbledore gulped and looked at Snape with pleading eyes, "Severus… _Please_."

Snape gulped, I know he doesn't want to do this, either, but he made an unbreakable vow with Narcissa. Snape drew in a deep breath before saying in a loud, stable, and clear voice, "_Avada Kedavra._"

The twinkling specs of love and hope in Dumbledore's eyes quickly dulled, and his weak, but still optimistic facial expression was wiped off his face. The killing curse blew him off of the balcony, but you could still see his body became rigid for a moment, before it became limp while it was in the air.

Snape looked at Draco and said, "We must leave at once." He tugged on Draco's left wrist, pulling him away from me.

I sobbed out and stumbled closer to them, "Don't leave me here, Draco!"

Draco planted his heels into the floor and looked back at me. His eyes were the size of the moon; they were filled with fear and covered with tears, leaking down his face. Snape pulled on his wrist again, "Now, Draco! _Now!_"

"I—I can't leave Neema behind!"

Bellatrix cackled and skipped ahead of them. Yaxley ran down the staircase while Greyback barely had to walk to keep up with Snape and Draco. Snape grinded his teeth; "You know what will happen to her if you bring her back—"

"I don't care!" I shouted and ran in front of them, "Take me with you! I'd rather be tortured but get to be with you—"

"He'll never let you see each other!" Snape roared, "He might just kill Draco in front of you!"

Bellatrix sighed and rolled his eyes, "He's not going to kill him."

Snape shouted, "And how do you know?"

Bellatrix smirked, "It seems that you're not the favorite after all, Snapey."

I rolled my eyes with anger, "Nagini is the God damn favorite! Can you please just get to the damn point?"

Draco laughed; he's scared, but he still thought my statement was funny.

Bellatrix didn't look at me, "Dumbledore is dead and Draco successfully infiltrated Hogwarts. Besides, there's no reason to spill pure," she glared at me, "_noble,_ blood."

Snape replied, "It's too risky to bring her back—"

"Not if she's my wife."

We all stared at Draco. I gulped and blinked twice, "What?"

Draco pulled him arm out of Snape's grip. He turned to me and took a step closer. He got down on both of his knees and held both of my hands in his. "He can't hurt you anymore if we're married."

I stared down at him in disbelief.

Draco smiled weakly and lovingly squeezed my hands, "He can't break a magical marriage. And we have true love, Neema, we really do."

I started to cry.

"So marry me."

I laughed, "I never imagined you proposing to me in the middle of a battle."

Draco laughed, too, "I thought about proposing to you at one of the dinners we go to, but I just… I just never knew when I could sneak that in."

I laughed and nodded my head up and down feverishly, "I'll marry you. I love you."

Snape stared at us with his mouth wide open while Bellatrix scoffed and rolled her eyes. Greyback smirked, no doubt imagining the punishment Draco and I will receive, but we ignored them. Draco let go of my right hand and slid his hand into his left pocket. He pulled out a black, velvet box. He flipped it open using his thumb and held it at a slight angle so I could see the ring. "I bought this when we were in Diagon Alley; I knew I wouldn't get another chance if I didn't buy it then."

I practically croaked, "You've been thinking about marrying me that long?"

He nodded, "Thinking about it, dreaming about it."

Tears streamed down my face, especially when he let go of my left hand and slowly took out the ring from the red, silk lined box. He slowly slid it onto my right ring finger – to symbolize our engagement – and looked up at me while I looked down at the ring. The ring has two, golden bands; in the very center is a large, chocolate brown pearl that compliments my olive, slightly tanned, skin. Diamonds littered the bands in the most beautiful way, and they wrapped around the pearl, but they were on very slim, sliver like, gold strands that connect to the bands. Draco jumped up, kissed me passionately, and then practically shouted when he pulled away from me, "We have to get out of here. Now."

I nodded my head feverishly.

He tightly held my right hand in his left and pulled me off of my feet as he started to run. I quickly matched his pace while we ran down the stairs, but I ran faster than him once we were off of the stairs. I made him run as fast as he could, forcing the other Death Eaters to run faster, too. Snape stopped several times because Harry was following us, but I didn't slow down until Harry shouted, "I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE ANYMORE, NEEMA, BUT THE WHOLE DAMN SCHOOL WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!"

I looked at Harry over my shoulder and shouted, "TELL THEM, HARRY! TELL THEM HOW I FELL IN LOVE! TELL THEM OF HOW VOLDEMORT AS WRONGED ME SO! TALK TO NEVILLE, HE'LL TELL YOU! AND MAYBE HE'LL BE ABLE TO TELL YOU HOW I FELL IN LOVE!"

Draco sneered at Harry over his shoulder while Snape blasted him backwards again, "YOU'D BE LUCKY IF YOU FOUND A WOMAN AS GREAT AS NEEMA! A WOMAN WHO LOVES YOU NO MATTER WHAT!"

Bellatrix cackled and ran past us, "YOU'LL BE LUCKY, POTTER, IF YOU FIND A BLOOD TRAITOR!" She laughed and apparated once she was off of school grounds; Draco pulled me past the fence, wrapped his arms around me, apparated us to my home.

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**A/N: So that was rather choppy, but I think you guys got the main parts of it. I doubt you want to reread the complete scene from HBP. :P Anyway, please review!**

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**A/N: Special thanks to scara1, Cass, and to loliePERIODlolszx for their constant reviews! You three are awesome!**


	33. Hechizo De Amor

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Hechizo De Amor

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**A/N: Please forgive my poor Spanish skills; I haven't used it in a while, but I am taking the class again, so I'm trying to remaster it. Anyway, this chapter is named "Spell of Love"/"Love Spell". I would have titled it in English, but it just sounds so much more epic in Spanish. :]

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This probably wasn't my best idea, but it was my first idea, so that's got to count for _something_ good. Draco and I have been separated for a week now; I'm stuck in my house, and he's stuck in his. My father has been shouting at me on and off everyday. He keeps telling me how I made a terrible mistake to come back here. Partly because the Death Eaters have become semi-chaotic due to the success of Draco and the death of Dumbledore. Partly because I basically just dropped out with only one year left, but I plan to go back next year, not just stay here, forever living off of my father. And, of course, because Voldemort is still here in my home, and he is piiiiiiised.

Voldemort beat on me my first night back. He worked my body until I was two breaths away from passing out on my second night back, and completely ignored me on my third night back. He's been gone since then, giving me four days to sit on the couch and be paranoid. I've been worrying about Draco like crazy, but if anything bad was happening to him, I'm sure my father would tell me. Now, on my seventh evening back home, I am oddly content. I guess I'm not so much content, but in that grey area above depression, but not quite content. I suppose I'm rather melancholy. Anyway, I was nothing less of startled when my father apparated into the living room with a loud pop. He drew in a deep breath, ran his hands through his hair, and then said,

"Take a shower and get dressed."

"How?"

He flashed me a sarcastic smile, "Well you turn the water on—"

I rolled my eyes, "Hardy har, har. I meant how should I dress? In a dress or casually?"

"In your best dress."

"Okay." I sighed, slid off the couch, stretched my arms above my head for a minute, and then walked out of the room. I slowly walked up the stairs, but I took them two at a time, making my accent an acceptable pace. I took a very long shower; I washed away more than just my share of dirt and debris of the day, I was doing my best to wash away my emotional pain. Voldemort healed the injuries he caused before he left – not out of kindness; he said, "You're prettier pink than purple." Nice guy, huh?

I thoroughly washed my hair, I shaved my entire body, and I scrubbed my skin until it was practically sparkling with cleanliness. I magically dried my body and dried and styled my hair using magic. I took my time putting on my make-up, making my face as appealing as possible, highlighting all the features I like, and carefully hiding all the things I don't like. I silently debated with myself whether or not if I should put my hair up in a bun, but I decided to let it cascade down my back in it's natural, curly way.

I quickly found a pair of matching bra and panties, but it took me a while to decide on a dress. After half an hour of walking around and searching through my formal dresses, I decided upon a beautiful blue dress. It's a tube top like dress; the top goes up to my shoulder blades, it pushes up my breasts, and shows my cleavage by being rather heart shaped in the front. The middle dips down to the very bottom of my breasts, but the majority of my breasts are actually covered. The dress is tight on my upper abdomen and just bellow my breasts, but is loose the rest of the way down, ending at my knees. The fabric poofs in and out, creating a wave like pattern in the design of my dress. The fabric that's tight around my upper middle is a crisp, clean shade of white, which is why I decided on wearing white, four-inch heels. My shoe straps swirl and twist around my feet in a very complicated, but very awe worthy fashion. I fumbled with a pair of medium sized earrings that are doves with a single olive branch in their beaks.

"Neema?" My father called and knocked on my door, accidentally opening it since I didn't close the door to my room all the way.

I sighed, "Yeah?"

"Are you ready to go?"

"Where are we going?"

He looked right at me, "Don't worry about it. Are you ready to go?"

I stared back at him, "Don't worry about it."

My dad angrily sighed and then said, "It's honestly not your fault that I've been so frustrated and rude this last week. As you can imagine, I'm not the happiest man in the world with your choice—"

"I'm going to go back!"

"I know!" He shouted but then mumbled, "I know. Whatever. Are you ready to go?"

I ignored him and walked over to the dresser closest to my bathroom. I gently slid the ring Draco gave me onto my right ring finger, drew in a deep breath and said, "Now I am."

My dad silently walked over to me, held onto my hand, and apparated us to the Malfoy Manor. We were both awkwardly quiet while he led me into the familiar ballroom of the Malfoy Manor. I bit the inside of my bottom lip when I realized that not only is their very long dining table almost completely surrounded by Death Eaters in chairs, but Voldemort is sitting at the head. He smirked at me and then told Draco to stand up. I gulped and slowly looked Draco over; he's wearing a black, pinstriped suit with a silver shirt and a blue vest. I didn't bother to refrain from smiling when I saw that his blue vest matched the blue of my dress. Voldemort chuckled quietly, sending shivers up everyone's spines. "_Aww_, you two even dress similarly. How cute."

I smiled, "Good evening, Lord Voldemort."

Voldemort smiled with an odd twinkle in his eyes. He slowly stood up and then opened his arms as if to welcome me into the room, "Good evening, Neemie. As usual, you look gorgeous.

I bit the inside of my lip for a minute, "Thank you, sir."

"Why don't you come over here?" He waved me to his side and then looked at my father, "And you can take your usual seat, Nasier."

My dad nodded and quietly sat to the left of Lucius, taking the place of the second most important Death Eater at the table. Honestly, I think that Lucius is only deemed the "most important" because he's afraid to _not_ give Voldemort money and whatnot, where as my father makes it known that his money is for his family; all others are to piss off. I walked over to Voldemort; he gave me a quick, painful hug, and then stood back a foot. "So…" his lips curled into a devious smile, "You think you've found true love, Neema?"

I bit my tongue to refrain from saying anything "rude" or sarcastic. "Yes, sir."

"And you think you found this with Draco?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well…" he looked at Draco over his head and told him to come over to me. Draco apparated to my side and stood very close to me; he's wearing a gold band on his right ring finger. I smiled at it and then up at him, he smiled back. Voldemort smiled sarcastically at us and said, "Face each other."

We did so.

"Take out your wands."

We gulped, but we did so.

"Hold your wands in your right hands."

We tightly held them in our right hands and pointed them up towards the ceiling.

Voldemort sighed, "Hold hands, holding each other's wands in the process."

We gulped and then tightly held hands. Draco's wand felt odd in my hand; small tingles of magic flowed from my hand throughout the rest of my body, and my wand was starting to do that, too.

Voldemort sneered at us, "Are you ready to see if you to actually have anything?"

I gulped while Draco looked him in the eyes, "Yes."

Voldemort smirked, pulled out his wand, and did odd circles around our hands while performing an enchantment I've never heard before. Streaks of pink, rose like light flowed out of the tip of his wand as his enchantment grew stronger. He looked at us and then told us to repeat after him, so we did. Gold streaks of light flowed out of my wand while a darker shade of gold flowed out of Draco's. The incantation didn't change much, but the spell suddenly felt stronger. An overwhelming feeling of an unidentifiable presence filled my body, giving me the strongest degree of happy I've ever felt in my life. Voldemort glared and asked, "Draco Malfoy, do you love Neema unconditionally?"

Draco said without any hesitance, "Yes, I love her unconditionally."

Voldemort bit down on his bottom lip and looked at me, "Neema Saravia, do you love Draco unconditionally?"

"Yes, without a doubt."

Draco smiled while Voldemort drew in a deep, angry breath. The lights from our wands twisted around each other; our bodies were suddenly slammed together, and the lights wove around us. Draco wrapped his arms around my waist, and I wrapped my arms around his neck while our wands quickly spun around us. Just as quickly as this process began, it finished; the wands dropped to the floor, and the force squeezing us together became nonexistent. Draco's and my breathing was labored, and a very thin layer of sweat covered our bodies; we parted about six inches to look at Voldemort. He said through clenched jaws,

"Kiss and the incantation will be complete, but—"

Draco didn't care about anything Voldemort had to say; he left his left arm wrapped around me and slid his right hand up into my hair. I did the same basic thing and kissed him back with a passion I didn't know existed inside of me. Our wands slowly rose from the ground and wove blue light around our bodies. After about a minute or so, the wands finished their magic and dropped to the floor, so we pulled away from each other to look around. My father had large, happy eyes and an open mouth; most people stared at us with large eyes, but Voldemort looked at us with pure hate. His jaws tensed before he randomly relaxed and laughed. "Who would have guessed that two school children found true love?"

Draco and I smiled after drawing in a deep breath.

Voldemort grabbed my right wrist, pulled me away from Draco, and growled in my face, "I'll still have you. I'll find a way." He smirked deviously while I cringed and quietly whimpered from his hold on my wrist, "Until then I may need to find a temporary replacement, but don't worry, it won't take me long to get you back." I bit the inside of my lip as he dug his nails into my wrist, but immediately let go of me. He gasped when he tried to claw me; my skin burned him. He looked down and then drew in the angriest breath I've ever heard. I smirked when I realized what happened,

"Our love burned you?"

Voldemort glared at me and quietly spat, "I cannot do anything with the intent of making you mine while you are his."

I smiled, "And while he is mine."

Voldemort smiled sarcastically, but then he got this wild look in his eyes. He wrapped his left arm around me and grabbed my face with his right hand. He cringed a bit at the feeling of the burning, but he didn't stop touching me. He roughly kissed me on the lips; I pressed my hands firmly against his chest and did my best to push him off of me, but he had a firm grip on me. Luckily, the kiss was short. I wasn't kissing him back, and my skin burned him, so he stopped. He smirked and said, "You're still mine."

I glared at him and then held Draco's hand, "I am a married woman now, and I will be seventeen in a weeks time. Your hold on me will soon be over."

Voldemort laughed, sat down on his throne like chair, and then pressed his fingertips together. "You're a funny girl, Neema. Just another reason why I like you."

"I'm flattered."

Voldemort laughed again.

Draco wrapped his right arm protectively around me and then looked at his father. Lucius was in Azkaban almost all school year. He was able to avoid it during the summer because the ministry was so focused on the return of Voldemort, and of course, because of his status and wealth, but he couldn't completely avoid it. I'm not sure who bailed him out, or how, but he's been back for a month, and you could tell he was still rather distraught. He had to cut his hair to just above his shoulders, and his face and body showed small signs of aging that he didn't have before; probably from the pain and stresses of prison. "Father, all of my belongings are packed, and I am ready to leave."

Lucius nodded and then said, "You may leave as soon as our Lord permits such."

Voldemort sneered, "Leave while I still want you gone."

We didn't have to be told twice. Draco wrapped his arms around my waist and apparated us to my room. We both drew our wands and magically packed all my belongings into two large trunks. I held onto the trunks while Draco held onto me, and then apparated us to his room. With one arm wrapped around me, and the other on his two large trunks, us, and our belongings, apparated to a small home that I never saw before. I wasn't sure what part of England we're now at, but I didn't really care. I know Draco too well to think that we're any where near my dearest Volders, and to tell you the truth, I'm just happy to be alone with him. Draco looked at me with a weak smiled,

"I know you want to live in Greece, but I don't want to live there until he's dead. I'd hate for you to not be able to enjoy one of your favorite places."

I smiled and walked up to him. I leaned against his chest and lazily wrapped my arms around his neck. I whispered, "I love you." and then kissed his cheek.

Draco smiled and whispered back, "I love you, too."

I sighed with happiness, "I cannot believe we're married now."

Draco was quiet for a minute, "I don't really consider that a wedding."

I laughed and kissed him on the lips for a minute, "Nor do I, however, we are officially wed now."

He smiled and let go of me. He tenderly grabbed hold of my hands and slid my ring off of my right ring finger and onto my left ring finger. I smiled up at him and did the same with his golden band. Draco gave me a tour of our small house – it's actually probably a regular sized home, but I haven't lived in a regular home since I was five or six years old. The house has comfortably sized living room painted green, a surprisingly nice kitchen, painted cream and yellow, two bathrooms, a master bedroom, and another bedroom. The master bedroom is large; it's the same size as my bedroom back home, but it's painted a stunning shade of medium blue. It has two walk-in closets, one for me, and one for Draco. We magically unpacked all our belongings into their appropriate places, but then I sighed and sat down on the green comforter on our new bed.

"I have a lot of things back at Hogwarts."

"I know," Draco sat down to my right and snaked his left arm around me, "I wrote to Crabbe and Goyle. I told them to pack up **all** of your things and send it to my father. My father will personally deliver your trunk once it arrives."

I smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

A light, but still noticeable blush crept over his face. He mumbled almost shyly, "You make me happy."

I smiled and rested my head against his shoulder, "You make me happy, too."

We sat there for a while. We didn't talk, but we were happy. We're finally away from the key things that make us miserable, and we're probably not going to be able to avoid forever, but, for now, we're alone, and we're at peace. The air in the room is cool, but his arm around me made me warm.

"Lets go out to dinner."

"I don't have any money."

Draco smirked and kissed my forehead, "Do you really think I'd snag you away but not bring any money?"

I quietly laughed and rolled my eyes, "I think that I feel bad for taking so much from your father."

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Whom else is he going to give it to? All to the ministry? All to Asshat?"

I laughed and leaned into him, "Where do you want to go?"

Draco lightly shrugged, "What do you picture eating after getting married?"

I laughed again, "I'm still in shock."

His breath tickled the top of my head, "I know being proposed to in the middle of a battle and being married by the darkest wizard in history isn't how you pictured getting married—"

"Damn right."

He chuckled, "And I promise I'll give you the wedding you want once this war is over, but for now, this is what we have."

I nuzzled my face into the side of his neck and kissed it, "I want Greek food."

"Okay." He held me tightly and apparated us onto a bench in the middle of the town near our new home, our first house together. He stood up and held my right hand in his left. We had close to no space between us while we walked up and down the street in search of restaurants. Many chain restaurants littered the streets, but somehow, some way, Draco found a restaurant with authentic Greek food. We were seated at the patio; we had a view of the ocean, so I asked Draco, "Where are we?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. My mother picked the town and house."

I laughed and leaned closer to him, resting my elbows on the table and my hands on my biceps. "Your mother knows what I like well."

Draco smiled and looked the menu over twice before looking at me with confusion. He leaned over the table and whispered, "What are all these foods?"

I laughed, "Do you want me to order for us?"

He nodded feverishly.

I chuckled and blew him a kiss; he pretended to catch it, making me quietly giggle and slightly blush. When our waiter came around I was surprised to hear him ask me what we wanted to eat in Greek. My dress is in the same colors as the Greek flag, blue and white, and my features are obviously Mediterranean, plus I have olive skin, so he was probably checking to see if I'm Greek or not. I smiled politely at him and ordered us, in Greek, tzatziki sauce and pita bread, chicken and lamb souvlakia, stuffed mushrooms, and calamari. Draco stared at me with slight awe as the waiter walked away, "What did you just order us?"

"My favorite dip with my favorite type of bread, chicken and lamb shish-kabobs, stuffed mushrooms and calamari."

"Oh." He still stared at me with an odd look in his eyes.

"What?"

Draco smirked, "I never heard you speak Greek before."

I shrugged lightly.

"It's rather hot."

I laughed and rolled my eyes at him.

We were quiet for a few minutes; Draco looked at the ocean, at me, and a few times at the waiter, so I had to ask why he was staring at him.

"Because he keeps eyeing you."

I sighed quietly and sipped at my glass of cold water, "Don't take it to heart."

Draco stood up straighter, as if he was subtly showing off his dominance and masculinity, "I'm not taking it to heart, I just don't like it."

I stared out at the ocean and softly sighed, showing my happiness; the gorgeous night sky is reflecting off of the dark blue water, the half moon is twinkling in the night sky, and the temperature of the air around is perfect. After an awkward moment of silence, I asked Draco, "Did you know that out of every ethnicity in the world, Greeks have the most sex?"

Draco smirked and leaned closer to me, "Is that so?"

"Yes, look it up. There have been studies—"

He wiggled his brows suggestively, "And how has it been studied?"

I rolled my eyes, "I don't know, the point is that we're an oversexed people. We check out everyone, don't take it to heart."

Draco raised his right brow, "Do _you_ check out everyone?"

"If by everyone you mean you, then yes."

Draco smirked and wiggled his brows again.

I giggled.

"So I'm a very lucky man, ehy?"

I looked at him and sipped at my water again, "What do you mean?"

Draco half smiled, half smirked, and stretched his hands out and onto the middle of the table. I slid my left hand out and he tenderly grabbed it in both of his. I smiled at him while he squeezed my hand and said, "You're gorgeous, you're brilliant, you make me extremely happy, and you want a lot of sex, and you want it from me."

I laughed and leaned closer to him, "I love you, too."

Draco gently brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it while looking at me. He only let go of my hand when the waiter came with our food, but even then, Draco played with my wedding ring until the waiter acknowledged it, and then let my hand go. I thanked the waiter in Greek before he nodded and walked away. Draco looked at all the food before picking up two shish kabobs and saying, "This looks interesting."

I raised my right brow; "It's tender meat with grilled onions, peppers, tomatoes, and mushrooms. It better look interesting."

Draco laughed at me and put some calamari on his plate. "Do you care that I double dip?"

Draco handed me the calamari after he took as much as he wanted. Without looking at him, I smirked and replied, "I'd divorce you if you didn't."

Draco laughed and started to eat. The surprise on his face was obvious, but I couldn't tell if it was a good or bad surprise. I stared at him while eating some pita bread with tzatziki sauce. After a few more bites of the lamb shish-kabob he looked at me and said, "This is delicious."

I smiled, "I'm glad you like it. This is what we'll be eating in Greece."

Draco smirked, "Shish kabobs?"

I rolled my eyes, "Foods like this."

Draco shrugged and continued eating, "I won't mind. I quite like this food."

I smiled and continued eating, too. Draco ended up eating most of the food on the table, but that's fine. He needs more food than me, anyway, and I wanted room for dessert. When we were clearly finished with our dinner, the rather handsome waiter came back and collected our plates. He asked me, in Greek, if I was married to the blonde. I laughed and told him yes, that the blonde is mine. He shrugged and told me, again, in Greek, "That's too bad, you're quite the beautiful woman."

I thanked him and then asked what desserts are available tonight; he told me that they have fresh loukoumathes today. I ordered us some and looked back at Draco when the waiter left. He eyed me rather suspiciously, "What was all that?"

I sighed, "We're having dessert now."

"What was he saying before hand? I know that type of look in the eye."

I rolled my eyes, "Relax, okay? He wanted to know if we're married, that's all. Stop freaking out."

Draco sighed and leaned against the back of his chair, "You'd be like this, too, if some pretty waitress was obviously interested in me."

I shook my head from left to right, "And then I'd lean over the table and make out with you. Problem solved."

Draco laughed and then asked, "What are we having for dessert?"

"Loukoumathes."

"What the hell is that?"

I laughed, "They're like… like donut holes covered in honey. I don't know how to explain them, but they're amazing."

Draco nodded and stared out at the ocean. Twenty minutes later, the waiter was back with two clean plates, two clean forks, and a platter with loukoumathes. I used the ladle in the platter to scoop out a lot of loukoumathes onto my plate, and then I gave a few to Draco. "Just to see if you like them."

Draco nodded with understanding and then slowly ate one. He decided he liked them and ate a lot of them. I smiled and carefully ate mine so that the honey wouldn't get all over my mouth and chin.

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Draco is busy off and on; Voldemort gives him pointless, time consuming, Death Eater tasks to "prove his worth" AKA keep Draco away from me. To keep my mind off of missing Draco too terribly and hating Voldemort with all my being, I asked my father to magically add another room to the house. We now have a library that looks small on the outside, but once you enter it, the size will blow your mind. I made a section for every single book I've ever liked, and then I filled the rest of the library with the books I own, and all the books I bought and plan to read sometime in my life. I decided to organize the library by hand, but I don't like the quiet of being alone, so I played some music to keep me entertained and comforted.

A few people apparated in and out of my house, but I didn't freak out over it. Draco and I quickly made my brother's best friend, an unknown man to Voldemort, our secret keeper. Narcissa volunteered having her memory erased, so that no one could use her to get our location, so now only my brother's best friend, my mother, my brother, my sister, Lucius, and my father know our exact location. My father created a potion for himself, my mother, Lucius, and my siblings so that the secret of our location appeared as a bookstore in London to any prying eyes.

My mother stopped by earlier today to perform the one year contraceptive charm on me, and teach it to me, too, so that I can do it to myself when it expires. My sister drops by on and off, but I haven't seen her for a few days. My father often drops by, sometimes to visit, but mostly just to check out the house and make sure the charms on and around my new home are working. Not that he really has to check, but it gives him peace of mind, so I never say anything to discourage his presence.

Lucius apparated to my right, startling me; he apologized and then said, "Narcissa would like you to come over when Draco is back."

I nodded and drew in a deep breath, "Okay." I looked at him, "May I ask for what?"

Lucius flashed me a small smile, "My wife and your mother both believe that you should have a real wedding. They want to help you plan such."

A large smile crept onto my face, "I will arrive as soon as Draco comes home."

"Good, good." Lucius looked around, "You are aware that you are seventeen now and can legally use magic?"

"Yes, but I still like to do some things manually."

Lucius nodded, "Draco will be seventeen in two days."

"Yes," I smiled, "I am aware."

"Are you two going to celebrate?"

I blushed, "We have a few ideas."

Lucius was about to propose Draco come home for a small celebration, but he quickly understood what I have in mind by the blush on my face. "Okay, well I'm going to go now. I'll see you two later today."

I chuckled nervously, "Okay, sir."

Lucius nodded and immediately apparated out of my home.

I laughed nervously to myself even though I'm alone again. Of course Draco and I are going to visit Malfoy Manor on his birthday, but he doesn't want any sort of party. And what am I supposed to get him, anyway? What could I possibly give a wealthy boy who already has everything he wants? He has been busy and stressed, so really, this is probably the best gift I can give him.

Am I supposed to wear something special to see them this evening? I know they praise formal wear, but I don't want to wear a dress today, and I definitely don't want to wear anything that will appeal to Voldemort. He hasn't seen me since my wedding day, and he hasn't had me for months before that; only God knows what type of mood he'll be in when he sees me. I hope he's not there; he's a busy guy, right? Certainly the Dark Lord has better ways to use his time. But he just might want to torture me, so he could easily be around.

Maybe I could kill him and then just tell Harry to hurry up with his horcrux hunt. He won't be completely dead if I kill him, but if Harry destroys all his horcruxes soon he won't be able to come back. That could work. I think. At least, I hope.

Could I really kill someone?

He's not a person, he's not even a being. He's just a thing, a spider. An icky, creepy spider, and I kill spiders all the time.

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**A/N: Please review!

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**A/N: Twin of Alice: I hope this was soon enough for you. Today is Sunday for me, so don't think another chapter is going to pop up in the next few days. :/

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**A/N: Cassandra-Jayne: Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad you reviewed, even when people don't have a lot to say, I still like to hear from them. :]

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**A/N: lolieDOTlolszx: I don't like Bellatrix much, so I liked having her blown into the wall, too. Hahaha I find myself constantly helping people with their grammar, so I figured I'd throw in some of the usual points I have to explain into a chapter. And I'm so glad you liked the proposal; I thought it was lame and choppy, but I'm super happy that someone liked it. :D

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**A/N: scara1: :D**


	34. Hopeful Romantic

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Hopeful Romantic**

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**A/N: The assholes I live with pissed me off quite recently, so I put away my Journalism work and typed this up. I probably should have waited until I at least finished my column, but whatever. }:l**

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When Draco came back from whichever corner of the Earth assigned to him today, I made him unwind by slowly undressing while I got a warm bath ready for him. Draco didn't want me to, but I told him, "I'm not going to be the nice, traditional, house wife for long, so enjoy it while it lasts."

Draco laughed and then said, "Okay." He sighed and carefully undressed to make sure that his fatigue didn't pop a button off of his shirt. I silently put a charm on the water to make sure that he'll become relaxed, gathered his clothes once he was undressed, and tossed them into the hamper I have for dark colors. I read a magazine on our bed to quietly wait for Draco. He took a long time, but I didn't do anything to try and rush him. I know that he needs all the relaxation he can get. Voldemort punishes him for loving and gives him tedious, monotonous, and unimportant work; Draco deserves his alone time.

I had a fresh towel on the sink, ready for Draco whenever he decided he was done with his bath. Once he was fully relaxed, he drained the tub and took a quick shower to actually wash himself. When Draco emerged from the bathroom he quietly dressed himself; I watched him in all his pale glory while he sighed and dug through a few drawers of his clean clothes. Draco looked over at me, looked me over, and then smiled. I'm wearing a pink summer dress, so he slipped into a pair of black slacks and a pink polo shirt that his mom bought him the other day. I giggled, so he looked at me over his left shoulder and raised his right brow, "What are you laughing at?"

I slowly slid off the bed and stretched my body up towards the Heavens. "You."

"Why?"

I smirked, "Because you're absolutely adorable."

Draco sighed, "Please do refrain from saying that in the presence of others."

I rolled my eyes, "Of course, I wouldn't want to threaten your masculinity."

Draco immediately looked down at his torso and grabbed at his shirt, "Is it the color?"

I laughed, "No."

A slow, cynical smirk crept onto his face, "Oh ha, ha, ha. It's because my mother bought it for me."

I walked up to him, gently placed my hands on his shoulders, and stood on my tiptoes. I kissed him quickly but tenderly on the tip of his nose before replying, "Something like that."

Draco breathed out loudly and looked at me with happy eyes. He stole a kiss from me before laughing out, "You're just jealous _my_ mother doesn't buy _you_ clothes."

"Oh yes, I really am."

Draco smirked with cockiness and wrapped his arms around me. I cuddled into his chest and mentally prepared myself for apparation. He kept one hand on my hair so that the effects of apparating would be at a minimum. I drew in a deep breath when we appeared in the family room on the second floor of the Malfoy Manor. Draco ever so quietly chuckled at me as he unwrapped his arms from around me. I playfully glared at him and sat down across from Narcissa and to the right of my mother. They smiled at me while Draco sat down next to his mother.

My mom hugged me tightly and said, "Oh Neemers, I've missed you."

I hugged her back, "I've missed you, too, mom."

My mom held onto me for a minute before sighing and letting me go. We sat closely together on the purple loveseat while she grabbed a few photo-album like books off of the coffee table. She flipped through a few pages before finding a section of dresses. She looked back up at me and said, "I was looking through wedding dress styles, with your shape in mind, and I picked several different types of dresses that I think you'll like _and_ will look good on you."

"Thanks," I held my hands out for the photo-album thing she put together. I flipped through the first few lamented pages until I saw an absolutely stunning dress. It was a tube top embellished with diamonds around the top of the front of the dress. The diamonds gradually decorated the dress further down, creating an exaggerated heart on the torso. A thin but wide strip of purple fabric acted as a decorative belt and tied into a large, complicated bow, almost resting on the butt of the wearer. Without looking at my mom, I said, "I like this one."

"Are you sure? You haven't seen them all yet."

"I know, but I just fell in love with this one."

Draco pouted, "What happened to us?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, I've replaced you with a dress."

He faked a sob.

I giggled and looked through bridesmaid dresses with my mother. We decided that Drea, a few of my cousins – Joanna, Vasiliki, and Fotini – and my best friend, Amelia. Amelia is two years older than me and I haven't seen her at all in the last year, but we've written to each other, and she's "dying" to be one of my bridesmaids. We decided that my bridesmaid dresses will be the same shade as purple as the bow on the dress I will soon have. As far as the actual wedding goes, I have no idea what I want, so I asked my mother to plan it and check in with me as to make sure that I'll like it. She agreed and brought Narcissa into the planning. Draco made a list of groomsmen so that he'll have enough for my bridesmaids. I only have five; all of the weddings I've been to there were at least seven bridesmaids, but I really don't feel a need for so many people. Five sounds like just the right amount of people, at least for me.

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**(A/N: Cass: I saw your status thingy on MSN and thought it was hilarious, so I had to add it here in the story.)**

Draco insisted that his celebration be anything but in formal wear, so I ended up wearing khaki colored Dickies and a red polo shirt. He decided to wear a dark pair of jeans and a green, long sleeved, but thin, shirt. I tossed my hair into a quick bun, grabbed the card I bought for Draco, and then cuddled into his chest so we could apparate to the Malfoy Manor. We landed in the living room on the first floor, but no one was in there, so we walked around until we found everyone in the Malfoy's Ball Room. Narcissa happily hugged her son while Lucius just nodded at him. We sat down across from our parents and smiled at them.

My father smiled, "Happy seventh birthday, new son."

Draco and I laughed, "Thank you, sir."

My dad waved his right hand at nothing, "Call me 'Nasier'."

Draco smiled, "Thank you, Nasier."

Narcissa made sure that Draco's favorite foods were made, so we ended up eating large pasta shells stuffed with crab, a salad topped with almonds, slices of mangoes and strawberries, a few very small chunks of dark chocolate, and lightly dressed with strawberry vinaigrette. At the last minute, Draco asked for there to be shish kabobs and tzatziki sauce since he fell in love with them on our wedding night. There was a rather hilarious, but silent clash of cultures at the Malfoy's dinning table. My parents, Drea and I feasted on the shish kabobs and tzatziki, with the occasional sip at our Seven Up and Ouzo, while the Malfoy's dined on the stuffed crab, the salad, and champagne.

I flashed Drea a tight-lipped smile and giggled; she has tzatziki sauce all over her mouth.

She saw me and whispered, "What?"

I looked at her again before whispering back, "You have sauce all over your mouth."

Drea quickly wiped it off with her napkin and then playfully winked at me, "You're just jealous."

I smirked, "Of sauce on your face?"

She smirked back, "Yes."

I refrained from laughing with perversion, "If anything, _you're_ just jealous that when there's 'sauce' on my face, it's real."

Drea laughed and almost choked on her bite of shish kabob. "Oh, you're nasty!"

I howled with laughter while she struggled with not choking. Everyone else at the table looked at us with curiosity. Draco smirked and quietly asked me, "What makes you nasty?"

I smirked back up at him before mumbling, "Things we do."

Draco smirked and went back to his meal, giving me an occasional look over. My father immediately engaged in conversation with Lucius when my mother was prying at Drea to tell her what just happened. When we were done with dinner, house elves took our plates and magically cleared the table. Draco didn't have a large cake, but that wasn't necessary since there are only six of us around tonight. I ate my piece of lemon cake frosted with chocolate icing slowly so I can savor as much of it as possible. I suppose I could have had more than one piece; Draco refuses to work this summer – he's your classic rich boy – so a lot of our time goes to exercising. Neither of us have jobs, so we're living off of our fathers, and a little bit off of my mother, so we've went from the higher area of the wealthy class to being middle class. It's not a bad life, middle class, but it's not what we're used to. We're now going without a lot of our previous luxuries, but we don't really mind. Well, I don't really mind. Draco bitches about it every once and a while, but I'm perfectly happy just being with him in our pretty nice home. There's no Voldemort, there aren't any household stresses, almost no one knows where we are, there's no Voldemort, our neighborhood is nice, we live near the ocean, we spend a lot of time on the beach, there isn't Voldemort, and we don't need anyone's permission to do the things we want.

Once we were finished with cake, we all handed Draco our gifts; Draco opened mine first. The card I gave him was a picture of a couple of disgruntled birthday partygoers with the adolescent birthday boy saying to one of his giftless friends, "You have EXACTLY thirty seconds to produce a pony or this #&*ing party is over!" Draco read it aloud, making everyone at the table laugh. I placed a small envelope of galleons, – I feel bad for taking so much from my parents, so I often assist my mom in her designing business; she occasionally gives me money for this – a homemade card on purple stock paper saying, "one free back massage," and the activation code to the new magical stereo I bought him. Draco squeezed me to him, kissed my forehead, and then said, "Thanks, love, I like everything here."

I smiled, "I was going to get you a gift card, but then I remembered how much I hate gift cards unless I specifically ask for one, so I gave you galleons instead."

Draco laughed and kissed my forehead again, "Thank you."

Narcissa bought him several long sleeve, but thin shirts so that he can be stylish and comfortable in the summer months while still hiding his Dark Mark. Lucius bought him a bottle of Firewhiskey, earning him a slap on the side of his head. Lucius told Narcissa, "He's a man now, for chrissake! He's married and has been a Death Eater for a year, he can drink."

Narcissa was about to scold Lucius, but Draco said, "Mum, I've _been_ drinking since I was sixteen."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, "Fine." She then looked at me, "I'm going to hold _you_ responsible for Draco's drinking. Make sure he doesn't go crazy with it."

I chuckled for a few seconds, "Of course, Narcissa."

She just nodded at me and glared at Lucius for several seconds.

My mother and father shared a gift, but they didn't look cheap since their gift is a brand new Rolls-Royce. Draco and I gawked at the keys – the car itself is parked outside, in front of the Malfoy Manor. I looked up at my parents with wide, thankful eyes, "Mom! Dad! This is too much, really!"

Draco interrupted me, "Tha—Thank you!"

They smiled and my mother said, "You're welcome, hon."

My father half smirked, half smiled and locked gazes with Draco, "We're glad you like it boy, but remember, you mistreat Neema, and we'll use it to run you over."

My mother smiled, "Over and over."

Draco became awkwardly silent while Drea laughed. I sighed and said, "Thanks."

My parents and Draco's parents irrupted with laughter. After everyone stopped laughing, Drea sighed and said, "I don't think I can out do _that_ gift, but I got you a gift anyway."

Draco smiled, "Thanks."

Drea picked up a box wrapped in green paper and tied with a silver bow from next to her chair, put it on top of the dinning table, and then gently slid it across the table and to Draco. Draco carefully took the bow off of the box and opened the gift. He looked at it curiously and slowly started to pick it up out of the box. I immediately knew what it was, so I slapped my hands over his and kept the _extremely_ sexy piece of unique lingerie in the box. I gave Drea a dirty look, "While at the table? Really?"

Drea laughed while my mother and Narcissa immediately knew what Drea bought for Draco. Lucius and my father looked at each other and then quietly asked their wives what was the big deal. My mom quickly mumbled it to him; my dad glared at Drea and said, "I like to think that _those_ types of things don't happen."

Drea laughed and shrugged.

While my dad was nodding his head from the left to the right, Lucius looked over at Draco, nodded his head with approval, and then winked. Draco lightly blushed, widely smirked, and nodded back. Narcissa slapped the back of Lucius' head again and quietly rushed out that he should not encourage the sexual behavior of his son and his lover in front of his lover's parents. At least not in front of her; she's Draco's mother, but she doesn't want to know these kinds of things about his life.

Draco and I ended up driving home in the Rolls Royce. He was extremely excited about it, so when he wasn't looking or paying any attention to me, I silently placed a charm on the car so that even if we toppled off of a cliff, the car wouldn't have the slightest scratch. It turns out that we live two hours away; the drive wasn't long or boring. Draco and I played some of our favorite muggle and wizard music and goofily sang along the whole time. Draco contemplated running over a few muggle pedestrians on several occasions, but I told him that would be a bad idea.

"Why? They're in my way."

"Has someone ever tried to run _you_ over?"

"No, but I'm not a filthy muggle."

I sighed and rolled my eyes, "If for not your soul than for the condition of your car."

Draco smirked, "I could fix the car."

I sighed again, "How about for me? I'd like to not go on a hit and run spree today."

Draco smirked and followed most traffic laws all the way home. Draco carefully parked the car in our almost entirely empty garage. I took in his lighter gifts and he took in the larger and heavier ones. While Draco went to the bathroom and put away his gifts, I looked at the unique lingerie that Drea bought for me to wear and for Draco to enjoy. I rolled my eyes and refrained from laughing when I realized what she bought me. It's a deep red, lace like strip of cloth. The strip is about three inches wide, and its made to wrap around my body. I looked over my shoulder and saw that Draco isn't in the hallway yet, so I have a few minutes to myself.

I quickly undressed and carefully slid into the lingerie. The lace like strip wrapped a few times around my legs, completely covered my vagina, zigzagged up my torso and somehow held up my breasts while covering only my nipples and the area of skin near them. I made my curly hair slightly messy, just the way Draco likes it. I tossed my clothes into my hamper and then put on some deep red lipstick. Draco was rereading the card I gave him and quietly chuckling while he walked into the room. I leaned against the wall in front of him as he laughed at the card and looked up at me. Draco did a double take at my outfit and dropped the card and his jaw to the floor.

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**A/N: Please review! As of today, the twenty fifth, ****3,433 Hits** and **1,225 Visitors, which is pretty awesome. Hopefully I can get my reviews higher than sixty one...? Thank you to all of you wonderful readers who have been reviewing! Reviews make my heart happy, and don't you want insaneartist to be happy? :P Hahaha. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. :)**

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**A/N: Twin of Alice: Either thirty eight or forty two. It depends if I feel the need to add a random chapter here or not, but if things go according to plan, probably forty chapters. However, I have plans for an alternate ending and a sequel. * devious smile ***

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**A/N: scara1: Shoes are important. Besides, I was in robot clean mode. And you did have my wonderful boyfriend to talk to. :)**

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**A/N: lolieDOTlolszx: I'm glad you're back to loving Draco. :D**

** I saw a freshmen at my high school today that looks almost EXACTLY like second year/beginning of third year Draco. I was like :O OMGAWD. And there's this junior that looks like an EXTREMELY UPSET Harry Potter. It's amazing. My high school is slowly becoming Hogwarts. Maybe Tom is lurking somewhere... mhhmm... Tom. :)**


	35. What's Beef?

**Chapter Thirty-Five: What's Beef?**

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Draco liked the outfit, especially the red bow on the back. He got a big kick out of that. We spent most of the night in the kitchen and living room; it was a fun night. A couple of times this month, I've surprised Draco in being in the lingerie when he got home; he sent Drea a thank you card two days ago.

We had our wedding last night, and it was wonderful. I thought it was going to be a small wedding, but my mother invited five hundred or so people, and they all showed up. Draco nearly shit a brick when he saw the size of my family. He whispered to me during our first dance, "How can you have so many first and second cousins?"

Not all of them are my cousins, but I'm related to about three hundred of the four hundred people on my side. The last one hundred were Draco's few close relatives, family friends, and distant relatives. I giggled and held him closer to me, "How can you have so few?"

He just rolled his eyes at me.

Our wedding was amazing. Everyone was happy for us. People were dancing all over the place, and a lot of my relatives got to see each other again after many years of not seeing each other. My parents drank much more than they ever should and acted like teenagers dancing for the first time. They laughed and waltzed all over the reception hall. My sister brought a date – she never told me about any love interests, but I didn't mind. It was a boy from Ravenclaw a year younger than Gaston; I think his name is James, maybe Jordan. I can't quite remember. But I do remember that he's a tan fellow and really rather cute. I think Drea said that he's half Sicilian, half something else, but I can't remember that either. I don't see where he got such a not Sicilian name, but hey, whatever floats his parents boat.

Draco and I didn't get to go home until four in the morning. Almost everyone stayed until about three in the morning, and then Draco and I magically cleaned up. It didn't take long, but my parents kept trashing the place, so Lucius apparated them home. Draco and I did a final magical clean up and then apparated to our home. I slowly peeled out my dress and carefully placed it under the protective plastic covering. I then put it in a far corner of my closet where I knew it would be safe. Draco did the same thing with his tuxedo. We showered together, but honestly not for sexual purposes. We were both _so _exhausted from our wedding that we just wanted to shower and go to bed. The second we were situated in our bed was the same second we passed out. We ended up sleeping until two the next morning, so we took a small sleeping pill so we could wake up again at eight and not have an odd sleeping schedule.

We spent the majority of the week putting to use and putting away the gifts we received from our wedding. After all the gifts, our once empty house looked like a pretty magazine home. Draco didn't really care where our gifts went, so I made him move them around and I just told him what to do. He wasn't too pleased with it, but I let him completely relax afterwards. I made us a large lunch and let him listen to wizard radio while I prepared and cooked everything. He sat down next to me at the table with a goofy smile and ate his meal very slowly. He didn't help me with the dishes or putting away afterwards, but I didn't mind. Most of it was done by magic, anyway. We ended up cuddling on the couch; I read Catcher in the Rye – an old favorite of mine – and he listened to the radio.

I love all the symbolism in Catcher in the Rye. I love that it's a circular narrative, a hero's journey. I love how Holden is an anti-hero, and I love the less obvious symbolism. For instance, towards the beginning of the book, when Holden explains how he broke his hand, how he says how he can't make a tight fist anymore. Then he balls up a snowball but he can't quite grab it. If you read it literally, he just can't make a great snowball, but if you read it figuratively, he can't quite grasp purity. The death of his brother has made him suffer in ways he cannot express, and his hand shows that. The white of the snowball is innocence and purity, and the fact that he can't make a "tight enough fist" to create the "ball" is just spectacular.

I suppose the most obvious of all the symbolism is the frozen pond and the ducks. The whole book is set in a winter state, a very cold winter since it's in New York, a place that gets extremely cold. The winter state is his mentality: cold and unmoving. The pond is Holden; the pond is frozen in time, Holden is frozen in time; he can't move on from Allie. The ducks that have disappeared are Holden's comforts; he doesn't know where they've gone, all he knows is that his happiness is missing. Plus, the ducks migrated somewhere warmer, and Holden wants to go somewhere "warmer".

I love that after I read the ending of the book, I have to read some of the beginning of the book again so I can understand the element I missed, the element the book is based on. It's a great journey, Holden's lost weekend, that is. It's a fantastic "hero's journey", and he portrays a sophisticated anti-hero. His diction isn't sophisticated, but his character is well thought out. I feel bad for Holden, though. No one who could understand him truly listens to him. Everyone lets him suffer; his parents are too involved in their own suffering and don't pay attention to his. His brother, D.B., just left to the other side of the country, Hollywood, no doubt to reinvent himself. If he were such a terrific writer, he wouldn't have to go to Hollywood. I'm convinced that he went there to live a new life, a life where the pain of his brother's death wouldn't have to be real. Phoebe seems to be the only one who organizes her pain and moves past her troubles.

Anyway, I finished the book within a couple of hours, and I smiled at a sleeping Draco. He wasn't even tired, but he was stationary and relaxed, so he fell asleep. I cuddled into his chest; Draco snores. He denies snoring, but he does snore. I like the sound, though. I usually _hate_ the sound of a snore; the only snores I like are my father's and Draco's. I like my father's because I've always heard it. It's comforting; it makes me feel safe and it lets me know I'm close to my parents. I like Draco's snore because it makes me feel loved and safe. I can't explain why, but that's the effect it has on me.

Draco wrapped his arms around me the twenty seconds of slight consciousness he experienced; I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

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Draco isn't going back to Hogwarts, but I am. My fleeing has been cleared up, and I am welcomed back. I'm sure the Gryffindors will hate me, unless Neville did as I asked and told how I really am. I'm extremely nervous about going back, but I'm going anyway. Draco is staying and continuing being a Death Eater. He doesn't want to, but he can't go back, and he can't just stop being a Death Eater. Once you're a Death Eater, you're one until you die. Draco and I decided to visit my parents since I only have two weeks left before I go back to Hogwarts. We've spent most of the summer together, as a happily married, young couple. I've only seen Voldemort twice this summer, and he barely even acknowledged me, so I'm feeling pretty good about going to the house again.

Draco taught me how to apparate this summer, but I still prefer when he apparates us. He apparated us into the dinning room; my parents were there, but Drea wasn't. My parents looked sickly pale, which is saying something, especially since they're not light skinned folks. I gulped and quietly asked, "Where's Drea?"

My father gulped, drew in a deep breath, and slowly snapped back into reality. He hoarsely replied, "In the living room."

I blinked my eyes tightly and quickly, "The one on the first floor?"

Draco ran his hands threw his hair and leaned against the wall behind us.

My dad's voice was still hoarse and quiet, "Yes."

I didn't have to ask any more questions. I didn't need any more hints, and quite frankly, I didn't want to hear more. I can't stand the thoughts, the memories of the horrors I've suffered, the same horrors that could be happening right now. But I'll be damned if I turn a blind eye to it! I'll be damned if I just let it happen! These people just let it happen to me! I suppose they couldn't really do anything to help me, to make it stop, but I don't give a fuck! Fuck them! Fuck this! We're a family! Aren't we supposed to do irrational, possibly dangerous things for each other when one of us is in need? What else is a family for? Who else would risk their life for yours? That shouldn't even be a question of family values; families are labeled families for a reason! I don't give a damn if you're the biggest coward to ever walk the Earth, you are obligated to love and be there for every member of your family! You don't have to _like_ the member, but you do have to love them.

I quickly drew my wand out of my side pants pocket, gripped it tightly in my right hand, and then said threw clenched jaws, "This ends today."

My father shot up, "Neema! There's nothing we can—"

I spun around to face him, "Oh yes there is!"

"Neema—"

"Don't give me that shit!" I shouted, "He did this to me, and I can live with that, but not to anyone else. Not to another one of us! He's doing it to torture us! And you should be ashamed that you're letting it happen!"

My mom shot up and cried out, "What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" I pulled on my hair, "But not just sit around like a bunch of cowards! This is Drea! It's terrible enough it happened to me, but now Drea? Who next? Gaston? Or how about you, mom?"

My father glared at me, "You watch your mou—"

"Are you serious?" I looked at him and laughed, "I've been mentally and physically raped repeatedly, and now Drea is. But when we get on the subject of mom I can't go there?"

They were quiet.

I sighed, "You two should be ashamed of yourselves." I rolled my eyes and shook my head from left to right to show my dismay, "A seventeen year old girl, who has suffered beyond words, is going to be the one to solve this?"

They were all quiet.

I stayed quiet for a very tense minute, "May God have mercy on your souls. Lord knows you'll need it when he asks you about this."

As I turned to leave the room, Draco said, "I love you, my Gryffindor girl."

I smiled and replied, "I love you, too." He remained quiet while I left the room. I quickly, but honestly nervously, walked to the living room. I gripped my wand tightly and allowed all my pent up hate flow through my veins and boil my blood. My heart moved from my chest, up my neck, and into my eardrums. My breathing switched back and forth from being nonexistent to being to fast to get any real air into my body. A thin layer of sweat covered my body as I walked into the room. Voldemort stood only in his silk boxers; his back was to me and he faced my naked, scared, shivering, and crying sister. The same group of Death Eaters, minus Draco, was in the circle around them. A sadistic, deep, growl like laugh came from Voldemort's chest as he said, "Are you ready for the show, boys?"

I leaned against the wall and tightened my hold on my wand. "I am."

Voldemort slowly looked at me over his shoulder. A small smile crept onto his face while a strange, but not new, glint of evil shimmered in his eyes. "It's so nice of you to join us, Neemie."

I looked at Drea and wanted to puke. I wanted to drop to my hands and knees and puke up more than my meals, but my very intestines. Her pale body was covered in goose bumps. Tears streaked and stained her face and neck. Her clothes were damaged and thrown to the side. Did I look like this? Did I look this helpless? This distressed? And no one helped me? No one stood up and said, "This isn't right"? No one could do that? Drea tried to help me. She tried to make me feel like I wasn't there. And now it's my turn. "Put your clothes back on."

"Me?" He pretended to look confused and put his right fingertips over his heart.

I looked at Drea, "Put your clothes back on, Drea. And get the fuck out of here."

Voldemort smirked, "Leave and I'll kill Neema."

Drea started to violently sob again. She collapsed onto the floor and cried against her knees; I shuddered. It was easier to look at Voldemort, so I did. I glared at him, "You are a filthy coward, and you should be ashamed of yourself."

The Death Eaters stiffened and Voldemort laughed. "Why are you doing this, Neemers? No one did this for you."

"Don't you _dare_ start a mind game now."

He just laughed.

"I'm doing this partly because I feel bad for you."

He looked genuinely curious.

"Because no one would do this for you."

He rushed out, "What are you talking about."

"No one loved you. No one ever cared about you. You should see real love once in your life."

Voldemort scoffed and turned around to face me. "Why's your wand out?"

"Take a wild guess." I'll admit it, I'm feelin' pretty ballsy. I've only got one thing going for me, and that's Draco. Everything else in my life pretty much sucks right now. And I've wanted to kill him for a very long time. Then I smirked, "I told you if you touched my child or my siblings I'd kill you. I told you I'd kill you every damn time you came back, regardless how many horcruxes you have."

He was angry, but he still looked amused. He raised his left hand; his wand flew into it and then he asked, "Shall we duel?"

I laughed and apparated behind him; he didn't know that I learned how to apparate, so he was very surprised by my apparating. I placed him under a body-binding curse and pushed him over. He was frozen in place, but his mouth was still open, so he could still shout at me. I grabbed his wand and broke it in half. Voldemort laughed and shouted some spells, but I ducked them. I rolled him over, straddled him, and then asked, "Did you miss me, Volders?"

Drea sobbed loudly, but only once. She shuffled a few feet away and struggled to put her clothes back on. I told her to leave; she didn't need to be told twice, she probably didn't need to be told once. Drea rushed out and probably rushed into the kitchen to see our parents. I looked back down at Voldemort; he laughed, "You feel powerful, Neema? You like riding me?"

I laughed and punched him in the face. He groaned from the pain, but I laughed. I shoved my wand into my bun and continuously punched him. Several tears escaped from his eyes while I punched him in the face. I laughed especially loud when I broke his nose. I pretended to be sorry and healed it. Then I broke it again. And again. And again. I've never felt so much hate in my life, not even the first few times he rapped me. All of my pent up emotions came rushing out. My hair felt like fire, my skin felt like sand paper, my blood was flowing backwards, forwards, and diagonally. My insides swished around and became pure liquids. I breathed in insanity and I breathed out flames. But my God, I've never felt so accomplished and pleased with myself in my life.

I stood up, keeping his nose broken, and started to kick and stomp on him. I laughed at the sound of his breaking bones, "Do you like this, Voldemort? Because you did this to my soul."

He laughed through his poorly refrained sobs, "Your _soul_, Neemers? Aren't you being a bit melodramatic?"

I laughed and then stomped on his nads. The bastard. I broke all his bones, twice. And I laughed. I laughed as he cried. I laughed as he sobbed. I laughed as he begged me to stop. I healed him all up, and then I did it again. And I laughed, oh I laughed hard. It wasn't a big deal when he ripped me apart. It wasn't a big deal when he slowly killed me inside. It wasn't a big deal for him to destroy my family. It wasn't a big deal for him to _beat_ me! To bruise me! To break me! I screamed, unbind him, and transfigured a random piece of small furniture into a durable, metal baseball bat. Voldemort stumbled backwards as soon as he stood up. He didn't know what was happening. He's never had this happen before. He's never been vulnerable before, especially not like this.

"Wha—?" He shouted as I slammed the bat into his side. He cried out and fell down. I continued to slam down on his body; I didn't stop until everything was broken, again, except for his neck, spine, and head. I drew in a deep breath and felt my blood in my body. It wasn't boiling anymore, and my blood wasn't flowing backwards anymore. My heartbeat calmed down, and my heart slipped back down into my chest. My skin cooled down, and my breathing went back to its normal rate. I took a good look at the broken, beaten Voldemort beneath me.

I drew in a deep breath, "I will help Harry find all your horcruxes. If you ever physically return, I will kill you. I know you, and you will try to possess someone close to me, do terrible things to this family, and I'mma tell you," I spat, "that will _**not**_ happen. I hope you've suffered today, you piece of shit."

He drew in a deep breath, but I didn't let him speak. I slammed the baseball bat down on his skull. It only took me two times to break the damn thing. It was beyond gory and disgusting and disturbing. His blood splattered against my body and the furniture near us. I dropped the bat, put my hands on my thighs, bent over, and then I puked on his body. I puked all over the nasty pulp. I was about to collapse, but then the Death Eaters slowly started to clap. It was Lucius and Lestrange that started the clapping. Outside of my family, and myself they were easily the most affected Death Eaters out of all of this.

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The rest is a blur. I was in ever wizarding paper, the story of my rape written on every front page. The story of how I killed him in the center spot of the page. I did end up writing Harry that letter. I told him that I'll keep killing him if he'll find and destroyed all the horcruxes. He thought it was a pretty good deal, and he spent his seventh year hunting down the horcruxes with Ron and Hermione. I stabbed several suspicious snakes, and I killed that creepy, evil Nagini. I burned her, too; whatever Voldemort liked obviously cannot be trusted. I hated her regardless; creepy thing.

I went back to Hogwarts, and I was sympathized with for the rape, and practically worshiped for the murder. I didn't like all the attention. I wanted my old life back, I wanted my fifth year life back, only, I wanted Draco, too. I guess beggars can't be choosers. Draco came back, too, and he wasn't given _too _much trouble. Mostly because the papers glorified him and his "role" in Voldemort's downfall. And of course, because he's my husband, and I'm pretty much a walking piece of God to these kids who were previously paranoid and tortured.

My family gradually eased back into normal. Drea was put through counseling, she couldn't handle what almost happened to her. And I don't blame her. He was even creepier and crueler with her. At least with me he slowly softened up a bit. Drea was purely to torture me, it was pure spite, and he needed to be as cruel as possible. My father was able to concentrate on his work like never before. He invented several new potions, and his relationship with my mother strengthened. Gaston came around more often, and I liked that. I missed seeing him; I love my brother very much. I love my whole family very much, especially this new one.

Draco and I have lived in Greece for the last fifteen years. We have seven kids, four girls and three boys. I'll admit it, Voldemort did one good thing for me: that tightness spell. I'm still sixteen down there, so the seven children didn't do anything bad to my body. I have some stretch marks now, but I've been just as healthy and physically active, if not more, and I'm still fit. I don't exercise much when I'm pregnant; the health of my child is much more important to me than staying a size eight. We sent our kids to school here, a Greek school, obviously, but we have them speak English in the house. Mostly for Draco since his Greek isn't that great, but so they can be bilingual, too. We sent them to Hogwarts, though. There's a wizarding school in Italy, but Draco wanted them to go to Hogwarts, so that's where we sent them. At least our first two, the rest aren't eleven yet, however, our second daughter, Fotini, is going to turn eleven is a couple of months.

Our youngest, three year old Giorgios, came running up the steps of our large, hill top home and flopped into Draco's lap. Draco smiled and put his paper to the side as Giorgios situated himself in Draco's lap. It's really quite funny; all of our children, except for Fotini and Giorgios are the absolute perfect mixture of Draco and me. Light olive skin, Mediterranean features, his height, his sharp eyes, his thinner bone structures, my wit, etc… But Giorgios looks _exactly _like me, and Fotini looks _exactly_ like Draco. She's pale with a pretty, little face and blonde hair. Giorgios is dark like my father, has my facial features, but the male version, and has a much thicker bone structure.

"Baba! Baba!" Giorgios shouted and tugged on Draco's hands.

"English in the house, Giorgios."

He sighed, "Daddy! Daddy!"

Draco smiled and ruffled our sons hair, "Yes, Georgey?"

I sighed and gave Draco a stern look, "It's _Giorgios_."

Draco smirked, "It's English in the house."

I rolled my eyes; I'm giving up on the correct meanings and pronunciation of our children's names. "Daddy!"

Draco looked back down at our son, "Yes?"

"The fisherman down at the dock says you're furmas."

Draco chuckled, stood up, and put Giorgios on his shoulders. "It's _famous_, Georgey, and he's right. I'm the most famous man in the world." Giorgios giggled and held on tightly to Draco's shoulders and ears. Draco walked over to me and kissed me lightly on the tip of my nose, "And when you're older you'll find out why." Even if we could begin explaining the horrors we've suffered, it's not like it's a story for a child. Giorgios didn't mind, though. Giorgios is a very understanding, patient, and surprisingly insightful child. He completely trusted Draco and said,

"Okay, baba."

Draco sighed with happiness and took Giorgios off of his shoulders. He ran around the house and pretended that Giorgios was an airplane. He traded Giorgios twice for our other children who wanted to be airplanes, but he always came back to little Georgey. It surprised me how great of a father Draco has become, or even started off as. Lucius never openly loved Draco, but Draco never hesitates to give our children, or me, love. He often gives them "life lessons" and tough love, but there is no mistaking that it's love.

I made a large pitcher of iced tea and put it in the fridge. The summer days here are so hot you'll melt onto the pavement if you stand in one spot too long. The children take it the best; they don't know any other climate. My Mediterranean body handled the heat well, but we all still slept a lot during most days and stayed up most summer nights, like the majority of Greeks. Draco took it the worst. He could never leaved the house without applying magical sun block so that he wouldn't burn to a crisp, and he couldn't handle the high temperatures well. But he enjoyed it here anyway. He easily loved it more than I did. To tell you the truth, I'd be happy anywhere as long as I'm with Draco. I still feel like we just got married, and I love our life together.

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**A/N: That's it, folks! I hope you liked my story! I'm going to write an alternative ending and then a sequel for that. I'll be adding the alternate ending on this story and I will be tilting it as such. BEWARE; the AE and the sequel will be ****dark****.**

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**A/N: Please review!**

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**A/N: Thank you to every single person who has ever reviewed this story! I hope that more people will review over time, of course, and I hope you review this chapter. I also hope you liked it and you'll be reading my AE and sequel. Most of all, I hope you enjoyed yourselves. You're the reasons I kept writing; thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. :)**

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**A/N: I'm sorry I didn't go up to my 38-42 chapter thinking. It just felt right to publish this now at this point in time of the story.**


	36. Alternate Ending

**Alternate Ending**

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**A/N: I took the beginning of the last chapter to start the alternate ending. So don't think I posted the same chapter twice.**

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Draco liked the outfit, especially the red bow on the back. He got a big kick out of that. We spent most of the night in the kitchen and living room; it was a fun night. A couple of times this month, I've surprised Draco in being in the lingerie when he got home; he sent Drea a thank you card two days ago.

We had our wedding last night, and it was wonderful. I thought it was going to be a small wedding, but my mother invited five hundred or so people, and they all showed up. Draco nearly shit a brick when he saw the size of my family. He whispered to me during our first dance, "How can you have so many first and second cousins?"

Not all of them are my cousins, but I'm related to about three hundred of the four hundred people on my side. The last one hundred were Draco's few close relatives, family friends, and distant relatives. I giggled and held him closer to me, "How can you have so few?"

He just rolled his eyes at me.

Our wedding was amazing. Everyone was happy for us. People were dancing all over the place, and a lot of my relatives got to see each other again after many years of not seeing each other. My parents drank much more than they ever should and acted like teenagers dancing for the first time. They laughed and waltzed all over the reception hall. My sister brought a date – she never told me about any love interests, but I didn't mind. It was a boy from Ravenclaw a year younger than Gaston; I think his name is James, maybe Jordan. I can't quite remember. But I do remember that he's a tan fellow and really rather cute. I think Drea said that he's half Sicilian, half something else, but I can't remember that either. I don't see where he got such a not Sicilian name, but hey, whatever floats his parents boat.

Draco and I didn't get to go home until four in the morning. Almost everyone stayed until about three in the morning, and then Draco and I magically cleaned up. It didn't take long, but my parents kept trashing the place, so Lucius apparated them home. Draco and I did a final magical clean up and then apparated to our home. I slowly peeled out my dress and carefully placed it under the protective plastic covering. I then put it in a far corner of my closet where I knew it would be safe. Draco did the same thing with his tuxedo. We showered together, but honestly not for sexual purposes. We were both _so _exhausted from our wedding that we just wanted to shower and go to bed. The second we were situated in our bed was the same second we passed out. We ended up sleeping until two the next morning, so we took a small sleeping pill so we could wake up again at eight and not have an odd sleeping schedule.

We spent the majority of the week putting to use and putting away the gifts we received from our wedding. After all the gifts, our once empty house looked like a pretty magazine home. Draco didn't really care where our gifts went, so I made him move them around and I just told him what to do. He wasn't too pleased with it, but I let him completely relax afterwards. I made us a large lunch and let him listen to wizard radio while I prepared and cooked everything. He sat down next to me at the table with a goofy smile and ate his meal very slowly. He didn't help me with the dishes or putting away afterwards, but I didn't mind. Most of it was done by magic, anyway. We ended up cuddling on the couch; I read Catcher in the Rye – an old favorite of mine – and he listened to the radio.

I love all the symbolism in Catcher in the Rye. I love that it's a circular narrative, a hero's journey. I love how Holden is an anti-hero, and I love the less obvious symbolism. For instance, towards the beginning of the book, when Holden explains how he broke his hand, how he says how he can't make a tight fist anymore. Then he balls up a snowball but he can't quite grab it. If you read it literally, he just can't make a great snowball, but if you read it figuratively, he can't quite grasp purity. The death of his brother has made him suffer in ways he cannot express, and his hand shows that. The white of the snowball is innocence and purity, and the fact that he can't make a "tight enough fist" to create the "ball" is just spectacular.

I suppose the most obvious of all the symbolism is the frozen pond and the ducks. The whole book is set in a winter state, a very cold winter since it's in New York, a place that gets extremely cold. The winter state is his mentality: cold and unmoving. The pond is Holden; the pond is frozen in time, Holden is frozen in time; he can't move on from Allie. The ducks that have disappeared are Holden's comforts; he doesn't know where they've gone, all he knows is that his happiness is missing. Plus, the ducks migrated somewhere warmer, and Holden wants to go somewhere "warmer".

I love that after I read the ending of the book, I have to read some of the beginning of the book again so I can understand the element I missed, the element the book is based on. It's a great journey, Holden's lost weekend, that is. It's a fantastic "hero's journey", and he portrays a sophisticated anti-hero. His diction isn't sophisticated, but his character is well thought out. I feel bad for Holden, though. No one who could understand him truly listens to him. Everyone lets him suffer; his parents are too involved in their own suffering and don't pay attention to his. His brother, D.B., just left to the other side of the country, Hollywood, no doubt to reinvent himself. If he were such a terrific writer, he wouldn't have to go to Hollywood. I'm convinced that he went there to live a new life, a life where the pain of his brother's death wouldn't have to be real. Phoebe seems to be the only one who organizes her pain and moves past her troubles.

Anyway, I finished the book within a couple of hours, and I smiled at a sleeping Draco. He wasn't even tired, but he was stationary and relaxed, so he fell asleep. I cuddled into his chest; Draco snores. He denies snoring, but he does snore. I like the sound, though. I usually _hate_ the sound of a snore; the only snores I like are my father's and Draco's. I like my father's because I've always heard it. It's comforting; it makes me feel safe and it lets me know I'm close to my parents. I like Draco's snore because it makes me feel loved and safe. I can't explain why, but that's the effect it has on me.

Draco wrapped his arms around me the twenty seconds of slight consciousness he experienced; I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

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Draco isn't going back to Hogwarts, but I am. My fleeing has been cleared up, and I am welcomed back. I'm sure the Gryffindors will hate me, unless Neville did as I asked and told how I really am. I'm extremely nervous about going back, but I'm going anyway. Draco is staying and continuing being a Death Eater. He doesn't want to, but he can't go back, and he can't just stop being a Death Eater. Once you're a Death Eater, you're one until you die. Draco and I decided to visit my parents since I only have two weeks left before I go back to Hogwarts. We've spent most of the summer together, as a happily married, young couple. I've only seen Voldemort twice this summer, and he barely even acknowledged me, so I'm feeling pretty good about going to the house again.

Draco taught me how to apparate this summer, but I still prefer when he apparates us. He apparated us into the dinning room; my parents were there, but Drea wasn't. My parents looked sickly pale, which is saying something, especially since they're not light skinned folks. I gulped and quietly asked, "Where's Drea?"

My father gulped, drew in a deep breath, and slowly snapped back into reality. He hoarsely replied, "In the living room."

I blinked my eyes tightly and quickly, "The one on the first floor?"

Draco ran his hands threw his hair and leaned against the wall behind us.

My dad's voice was still hoarse and quiet, "Yes."

I didn't have to ask any more questions. I didn't need any more hints, and quite frankly, I didn't want to hear more. I can't stand the thoughts, the memories of the horrors I've suffered, the same horrors that could be happening right now. But I'll be damned if I turn a blind eye to it! I'll be damned if I just let it happen! These people just let it happen to me! I suppose they couldn't really do anything to help me, to make it stop, but I don't give a fuck! Fuck them! Fuck this! We're a family! Aren't we supposed to do irrational, possibly dangerous things for each other when one of us is in need? What else is a family for? Who else would risk their life for yours? That shouldn't even be a question of family values; families are labeled families for a reason! I don't give a damn if you're the biggest coward to ever walk the Earth, you are obligated to love and be there for every member of your family! You don't have to _like_ the member, but you do have to love them.

I quickly drew my wand out of my side pants pocket, gripped it tightly in my right hand, and then said threw clenched jaws, "This ends today."

My father shot up, "Neema! There's nothing we can—"

I spun around to face him, "Oh yes there is!"

"Neema—"

"Don't give me that shit!" I shouted, "He did this to me, and I can live with that, but not to anyone else. Not to another one of us! He's doing it to torture us! And you should be ashamed that you're letting it happen!"

My mom shot up and cried out, "What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" I pulled on my hair, "But not just sit around like a bunch of cowards! This is Drea! It's terrible enough it happened to me, but now Drea? Who next? Gaston? Or how about you, mom?"

My father glared at me, "You watch your mou—"

"Are you serious?" I looked at him and laughed, "I've been mentally and physically raped repeatedly, and now Drea is. But when we get on the subject of mom I can't go there?"

They were quiet.

I sighed, "You two should be ashamed of yourselves." I rolled my eyes and shook my head from left to right to show my dismay, "A seventeen year old girl, who has suffered beyond words, is going to be the one to solve this?"

They were all quiet.

I stayed quiet for a very tense minute, "May God have mercy on your souls. Lord knows you'll need it when he asks you about this."

As I turned to leave the room, Draco said, "I love you, my Gryffindor girl."

I smiled and replied, "I love you, too." He remained quiet while I left the room. I quickly, but honestly nervously, walked to the living room. I gripped my wand tightly and allowed all my pent up hate flow through my veins and boil my blood. My heart moved from my chest, up my neck, and into my eardrums. My breathing switched back and forth from being nonexistent to being to fast to get any real air into my body. A thin layer of sweat covered my body as I walked into the room. Voldemort stood only in his silk boxers; his back was to me and he faced my naked, scared, shivering, and crying sister. The same group of Death Eaters, minus Draco, was in the circle around them. A sadistic, deep, growl like laugh came from Voldemort's chest as he said, "Are you ready for the show, boys?"

I leaned against the wall and tightened my hold on my wand. "I am."

Voldemort slowly looked at me over his shoulder. A small smile crept onto his face while a strange, but not new, glint of evil shimmered in his eyes. "It's so nice of you to join us, Neemie."

I looked at Drea and wanted to puke. I wanted to drop to my hands and knees and puke up more than my meals, but my very intestines. Her pale body was covered in goose bumps. Tears streaked and stained her face and neck. Her clothes were damaged and thrown to the side. Did I look like this? Did I look this helpless? This distressed? And no one helped me? No one stood up and said, "This isn't right"? No one could do that? Drea tried to help me. She tried to make me feel like I wasn't there. And now it's my turn. "Put your clothes back on."

"Me?" He pretended to look confused and put his right fingertips over his heart.

I looked at Drea, "Put your clothes back on, Drea. And get the fuck out of here."

Voldemort smirked, "Leave and I'll kill Neema."

Drea started to violently sob again. She collapsed onto the floor and cried against her knees; I shuddered. It was easier to look at Voldemort, so I did. I glared at him, "You are a filthy coward, and you should be ashamed of yourself."

The Death Eaters stiffened and Voldemort laughed. "Why are you doing this, Neemers? No one did this for you."

"Don't you _dare_ start a mind game now."

He just laughed.

"I'm doing this partly because I feel bad for you."

He looked genuinely curious.

"Because no one would do this for you."

He rushed out, "What are you talking about."

"No one loved you. No one ever cared about you. You should see real love once in your life."

Voldemort scoffed and turned around to face me. "Why's your wand out?"

"Take a wild guess." I'll admit it, I'm feelin' pretty ballsy. I've only got one thing going for me, and that's Draco. Everything else in my life pretty much sucks right now. And I've wanted to kill him for a very long time. Then I smirked, "I told you if you touched my child or my siblings I'd kill you. I told you I'd kill you every damn time you came back, regardless how many horcruxes you have."

He was angry, but he still looked amused. He raised his left hand; his wand flew into it and then he asked, "Shall we duel?"

I laughed and apparated behind him; he didn't know that I learned how to apparate, so he was very surprised by my apparating. I placed him under a body-binding curse and pushed him over. He was frozen in place, but his mouth was still open, so he could still shout at me. I grabbed his wand and broke it in half. Voldemort laughed and shouted some spells, but I ducked them. I rolled him over, straddled him, and then asked, "Did you miss me, Volders?"

Drea sobbed loudly, but only once. She shuffled a few feet away and struggled to put her clothes back on. I told her to leave; she didn't need to be told twice, she probably didn't need to be told once. Drea rushed out and probably rushed into the kitchen to see our parents. I looked back down at Voldemort; he laughed, "You feel powerful, Neema? You like riding me?"

I laughed and punched him in the face. He groaned from the pain, but I laughed. I shoved my wand into my bun and continuously punched him. Several tears escaped from his eyes while I punched him in the face. I laughed especially loud when I broke his nose. I pretended to be sorry and healed it. Then I broke it again. And again. And again. I've never felt so much hate in my life, not even the first few times he rapped me. All of my pent up emotions came rushing out. My hair felt like fire, my skin felt like sand paper, my blood was flowing backwards, forwards, and diagonally. My insides swished around and became pure liquids. I breathed in insanity and I breathed out flames. But my God, I've never felt so accomplished and pleased with myself in my life.

I stood up, keeping his nose broken, and started to kick and stomp on him. I laughed at the sound of his breaking bones, "Do you like this, Voldemort? Because you did this to my soul."

He laughed through his poorly refrained sobs, "Your _soul_, Neemers? Aren't you being a bit melodramatic?"

I laughed and then stomped on his nads. The bastard. I broke all his bones, twice. And I laughed. I laughed as he cried. I laughed as he sobbed. I laughed as he begged me to stop. I healed him all up, and then I did it again. And I laughed, oh I laughed hard. It wasn't a big deal when he ripped me apart. It wasn't a big deal when he slowly killed me inside. It wasn't a big deal for him to destroy my family. It wasn't a big deal for him to _beat_ me! To bruise me! To break me! I screamed, unbinded him, and transfigured a random piece of small furniture into a durable, metal baseball bat. Voldemort stumbled backwards as soon as he stood up. He didn't know what was happening. He's never had this happen before. He's never been vulnerable before, especially not like this.

Voldemort shot up and grabbed the baseball bat. I drew it back and tried to hit him with it, but he stepped back and pulled it out of my grip. He slammed it against my side; I fell to the floor and cried out from the pain, but I jumped away before he could slam it against me again. I grabbed my wand out of my bun and pointed it at him. I sent random spells at him, but he wandlessly deflected them. He grabbed the pieces of his wand and somehow fixed them with the magic in his hands. I stared at him with an open mouth; no wizard should be that powerful, no wizard should be able to just _create_ magic like that. Voldemort shot spells at me and I shot spells back at him. He apparated behind me, wrapped his right arm around me, and then apparated us to the dinning room. Voldemort pushed me into a sobbing Drea,

"Pick someone."

"What?" I turned and looked at him. My legs and hands were shaking.

He growled, "I'll either kill everyone of these people, or just one. So pick someone."

I stuttered with confusion and shock, "Why?"

His face contoured with hate and megalomania, "I'll pick them for you if you can't chose."

"I chose you."

Voldemort laughed and then crucioed me; he laughed and kept the curse on me for a good minute. He lifted the curse, smirked at my panting, and then grabbed Drea by the hair, "How funny would it be if Drea died because of you? She could have just gotten laid."

"No!" I jumped up from the floor and pushed her away from him and into the waiting arms of my father."

Voldemort smirked, "Then it'll be Draco."

"No!"

Draco's eyes widened to the size of his head, "My—My lord."

Voldemort grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Who'll it be, Neema? Your sister or your husband? Either is fine with me."

"Just kill me." I begged him and took a step closer to him, "Please, _please_."

Voldemort smirked and pointed his wand at Draco's throat, "How shall he die, slow or slow?"

"Don't kill him slowly!"

"So we're killing Draco? Okay."

"No!" I cried out. I wrapped my arms around Draco and sobbed into his chest, "Don't kill him, please. Do whatever you want, but don't kill him."

Draco wrapped his arms around me, "It's fine, don't have Drea die."

"No!" I sobbed, "No! I just got you! I can't lose you now! Or like this!"

Draco violently sobbed with me while Voldemort growled with delight. "No," I begged, "Please, this has nothing to do with these people. This is between you and me."

Voldemort sat down in an empty chair and watched with delight. He watched as I cried and begged for a long time before saying, "I can kill him slowly or you can kill him quickly. The choice is yours."

Draco pulled away from me, grabbed my face, and then passionately kissed me. When he broke away from me he looked into my tear and terror filled eyes, "I don't want to die because I don't want to leave you. But you have to do it. And I'm okay with that. Just do it."

I sobbed into his chest.

Draco held me tightly and lovingly, "Just do it, Neema. I love you, and we'll be together in Heaven. I'll wait for you even if I have to wait forever."

I cried harder. "I—I—I love you."

Draco kissed me again, ignoring the taste of our tears. "I love you, too. I'll always love you. And if we're reincarnated, I'll love you in those lives, too."

I cried and kissed him one more time, "I love you, Draco. And I'll always love you. This life, in the afterlife, in all of our 'next lives', I'll love you."

Draco smiled with love and fear. He gripped my right hand and pointed my wand at his heart, "I forgive you. This isn't your fault, it isn't really your doing, either."

My hands started to shake again.

"Don't feel guilty. Just do this, you can. And we'll be together again soon."

I gulped.

Voldemort sighed loudly and threatened to set Draco on fire from the inside.

I kissed Draco one more time before mumbling, "_Avada Kedavra._"

Draco's body tensed against mine. I pulled away from his motionless lips and watched with horror as his body fell to the floor. His eyes were dull, the little bit of pink in his face was nonexistent, and his chest wasn't rising and falling. I collapsed next to him and sobbed into his chest; it was becoming colder with every minute. I rolled over and puked; I think I got some on me, but I didn't care. I could only see white, I couldn't hear, and I couldn't physically feel anything. My soul mate is dead, and I murdered him. In an attempt to save my sister I killed my husband. I should have just let everything happen. I should have been a coward like my parents; I should have just waited it out. Now I'm alone. My relationship with my parents hasn't been the same since I was raped, and now we'll never be close again. Drea is going to take a long time to move on from this, and my soul mate is gone. His body is cold and lifeless and he's not in it anymore. And it's all my fault.

Voldemort laughed and stood up. He pulled me up by the hair and barely dodged my new wave of barf. He roughly slid my wedding ring off of my hand and pushed me into the seat he was just in. He grinned with an evil I didn't know could exist, "You're mine, forever." He pointed his wand at me and said a spell I've never heard before. My body started to jerk around and my bones felt like they were degenerating. I screamed from the overwhelming pain; my organs ripped from their places and exchanged areas with other organs. I was skinned and tossed into salt while my brain exploded. I watched with confusion and horror as a blinding white light was dragged out of my chest. Voldemort tossed my wedding ring into the air and then shot the white light into it. My screams of pain turned into gasps and labored breath. Voldemort kneeled down and slid my ring back on. He silently preformed a spell on the ring; the skin it touched burned, but I didn't care. Voldemort smirked and looked into my eyes, "This, Neema, is a horcrux. Now only I can take it off of you, and only I can destroy it. And I can only destroy it if I'm sober; the Imperious Curse will not work for taking it off and or destroying."

I stared into his midnight blue eyes, "I hate you, and I hope Harry finds and destroys all your horcruxes."

Voldemort laughed and then punched me. He didn't slap me like he used to, he actually punched me into the face. I cried out from the pain; he laughed, "You're mine forever, and _you_ killed Draco to help me." Voldemort smirked, "Your father _finally_ created **the** elixir of life this morning. He's been working on it since before you were born, and I drank it today. I'm immortal, with or without the horcruxes. I will look like this forever, and not even the most powerful killing curse will do _any_ harm to me." Voldemort walked over to Draco, slid his wedding ring off, and then wore it on his left ring finger. He smiled down at it and then me, "The boy had good taste. This ring will do just fine. Your wedding ring is now from me."

I started to sob again, and I dry heaved. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, I couldn't feel anything but hate and heartache. I'm going to live forever. I'm going to be with Voldemort forever. I'll never see Draco again. I should have killed myself instead of crying into his dead chest.

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**A/N: Please review! I'm going to write a sequel for this. I'm going to call it "God Called in Sick Today" so keep an eye out for it.**

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**A/N: Cass: I find breaking things with baseball bats is much more satisfying than just breaking things.**

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**A/N: Scara1: ta ta for now. I know that one. =|**


	37. Memo and Me Being an Asshole

**Memo and Me Being an Asshole**

"My Derailment" is officially complete. I have started the sequel, "God Called in Sick Today." I plan on giving Neema a very happy surprise, and she will receive a very happy ending. Because I like Neema quite a bit, and I'm not into completely cruel/dark stories.

As to me being an asshole... I know the alternate ending was horribly sad. But lets be honest, was that unlike Voldemort? Voldemort, who in this story, does not like Neema being with anybody but him, didn't like her getting married, and pretty much just got owned... was he going to be nice? Or was shit going to hit the fan?

**Cass:** I appreciate your comment very much in the review section. You were honest with me; you didn't like how it ended. I don't like Draco dead, either, but I wanted to write a dark sequel story with interesting twists of bright light, so I wrote the alternate. I'm a fan of Draco; his daddy doesn't really love him, and his mother never really knows how to truly help him. Does Draco ever get to do what he truly wants to do? No. He always has to do what his daddy wants him to do. And his dad barely ever shows him fatherly love for it, so he lives his life trying to be loved. Aww. Poor Draco. :( Anyway, **Cass**, I also like how you said it was depressing and all of that. If someone were to lurk in my reviews before deciding to read the story, they could see the comparison between the two endings and all that jazz.

**Scara1:** Thank you for your continuous support. :) I'm really quite flattered by your review. You said you might cry, meaning, at least to me, that I did a good job in grasping the emotions of Neema, and that the situation was sad, but it was real (as far as FanFiction goes).

**FredsForeverFanGirl:** I have to ask, what was _shitty_ about it? Was my capture of raw emotion poorly done? Was my vocabulary off? Were my segues between thoughts and occurrences rough and unbalanced? Was it not Voldemort like? Perhaps my overall situation was poorly constructed/thought out/written? Or did you just not like my topic? I do NOT like Draco dying. Like I said, I LIKE Draco, but it's Voldemort like. Which is why my alternate ending, and not my official, real ending. I much prefer happy ever after Neema/Draco life. That's why it's my real ending. The alternate's purpose is to open the door to my dark story with its surprsingly light twists, and happy ever after ending.

I'm probably not going to do a response area again for this story unless I get a review that makes me temporarily blind and fall in love and I have to write back saying something like, "**SoAndSo:** Will you please marry me? Your review was thoughtful and it expressed your formulated opinion. I am bi-sexual, so I can marry you regardless of your sex. I mean, if we go to Canada or something, because California is still in the process of appealing the anti gay marriage law."


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